
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

n'p'^ 

Chap.\ Copyright No. 


SheltC-.E-S? 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 








1 




i 

9 


( 


i 
















BOOKS BY PENN SHIRLEY 


LITTLE MISS WEEZY SERIES 

Three volumes Illustrated Price per volume 
75 cents 

Little Miss Weezy 

Little Miss Weezy’s Brother 

Little Miss Weezy’s Sister 

THE SILVER GATE SERIES 

Illustrated Price per volume 75 cents 

Young Master Kirke 

The Merry Five 

Complete Catalogues free 

LEE AND SHEPARD Publishers BOSTON 









*' Mamma has found her lost baby/’ 


Page 27 




THE SILVER GATE SERIES N - V . 


THE MERRY FIVE 


BY 


PENN SHIRLEY 

AUTHOR OF “ LITTLE MISS WEEZY ” “ LITTLE MISS WEEZv’s 

brother” “little miss weezy’s sister” 

“young master kirke” 




/.« 


•i'.N 


’ V ' 


V - 


1 




/ 3 ?-' 


BOSTON 

LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS 


lO MILK STREET 



Copyright, 1896, by Lee and Shepard 


All Rights Reserved 


The Merry Five 


TYPOGRAPHY BY C. J. PETERS & SON, BOSTON. 


PRESSWORK BY BERWICK & SMITH. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. The Merry Five 7 

II. Donald hides 20 

III. Santa Luzia 30 

IV. Learning to swim 42 

V. At the Beach 53 

VI. Fishing for Weezy 67 

VII. Going into Camp 79 

VIII. The Little Miners 91 

IX. The Bee-Ranch 104 

X. Five Young Poets 117 

XL Molly a Heroine 128 

XII. The Street Masquerade 142 


/ 

/ 


/ 






LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


“Mamma has found Her Lost Baby” . . Frontispiece 


“You’d better let Him go to Santa Luzia,” page 32 

Pauline and Molly were swinging in a 

Hammock page 53 

The Boys bore the Child Onward .... page 75 

The Twins sprang from behind the Tall 

Sycamore page 90 

“Aren’t You Afraid of being stung?” . . page 109 

“Stop the Car !” screamed Mollie . . . page 137 

That Inquisitive Little Dog page 153 



THE MERRY FIVE 


CHAPTER I 

THE MERRY FIVE 

The Merry Five were Molly, Kirke, and 
Weezy Rowe, and their twin comrades, Paul 
and Pauline Bradstreet, who lived over the 
way. Paul, Pauline, and Molly were now 
fourteen years old, Kirke was twelve, and 
little Miss Weezy seven. The story begins 
with the Rowes at luncheon-tirne. 

O papa ! Pm so glad we’re going to the 
beach,” cried Molly, laying down her fork. 

“ And I’m glad we’re going to be so near 
Captain Bradstreet’s camp,” added Kirke, 
flourishing his napkin. “ Oh ! we shall have 
a famous outing.” 


7 


8 


THE MERRY FIVE 


Exquit chirped Weezy, not at all sure 
what an outing might be, only that it must 
be something jolly. 

“Me too, mamma,” lisped Baby Donald, 
paddling with his spoon in his bowl of milk. 

Mr. Rowe had caused this unusual excite- 
ment by reading aloud a letter from Mrs. 
Kitto, who kept a boarding-house at Santa 
Luzia. The letter stated that she had received 
Mr. Rowe’s note of inquiry, and that if he 
desired it, she would take himself and family 
as boarders on the following Wednesday. 

“ You do desire it, papa; don’t you } ” added 
Molly eagerly. 

“ If your mamma does, my daughter.” 

“ It will be difficult to leave so soon,” 
remarked Mrs. Rowe, thoughtfully stroking 
Donald’s restless fingers. 

. “But we children can help,” said Molly 
quickly. “ We have helped a great deal 
since vacation ; now, haven’t we, mamma ? ” 


THE MERRY FIVE 


9 


‘‘ Certainly you have, my dear,” returned 
Mrs. Rowe with a smile. Did Molly remem- 
ber that this vacation was as yet hardly two 
days old ? 

The first thing that Molly did after luncheon 
by way of helping, was to run across the street 
to Captain Bradstreet’s to signal to Pauline in 
the cheery trill that all school-girls know. 

‘‘ Mrs. Kitto can take us, Polly ! We’re 
going Wednesday ! ” she cried, as Pauline came 
dancing out, her long hair floating behind her 
like a black flag. 

‘‘You are, Molly.!* Papa says we sha’n’t be 
off before the first of next month. But he 
has partly promised to let Paul and me stop 
at Santa Luzia on the way.” 

“O Pauline, how perfectly lovely!” 

“I didn’t believe he’d ever think of such 
a thing,” said Pauline, braiding her hair. 
“ He’s so silly about us twins since mamma 
died. Can’t bear to have us out of his sight.” 


10 


THE MERRY FIVE 


“ I don’t wonder, Polly, I’m sure.” Molly’s 
eyes glowed with pity, as they always did 
when Pauline spoke of her dead mother. She 
longed to tell Pauline how sorry she was for 
her, but the words would not come. What 
she did say was only this, “Your shoe-string’s 
untied, Polly, the right one.” 

“Is it } Well, it might as well be the 
right as the left. It’s sure to be one or the 
other,” returned easy-going Pauline, stooping 
to fasten the offending lacing. 

“Oh ! won’t it be delightful if you and Paul 
can come to Santa Luzia, Polly } I hope you 
can stay at Mrs. Kitto’s a whole week.” 

“ Thank you, Molly dear, and I ” — Pauline 
had been about to say that she hoped Molly 
and Kirke would stay at least that length of 
time at the camp ; but suddenly remembered 
that there might not be room enough for 
them. She must ask her father. 

“I — I suppose Auntie David will meet us 


THE MERRY FIVE 


II 


at Santa Luzia,” she said, to finish the sen- 
tence. 

“ What does make you call her Auntie 
David, Pauline.? You’ve never told me.” 

Oh, Paul and I began to call her that 
when we were little snips, and we’ve done 
it ever since. Auntie doesn’t mind. Her 
name is Davidson, you know. She married 
Uncle John Davidson.” 

“Will Mr. Davidson come to Santa Luzia 
too, Polly.?” 

“Oh, no; Uncle John has gone East. He 
goes East every summer on business, and 
then Auntie comes to live with us. Lucky 
for Paul and me ; lucky for papa too ! Auntie 
David is papa’s only sister. I believe he 
thinks she made the world!” 

“Well, I must skip back,” said Molly, with 
an important air. “ Kirke has gone over to 
Mrs. Carillo’s to see if Manuel wants to keep 
Kirke’s cart and burro while we’re away; 


12 


THE MERRY FIVE 


and mamma may want me to do some er- 
rands.” 

All the rest of the week there was a pleasant 
bustle in the Rowe household, the bustle of 
preparing for a journey. 

“We’re going to ride in the cars,” little 
Miss Weezy explained to all callers. “We’re 
going to Sandy Luzia. It’s ’most a hundred 
miles.” 

The little maiden was very busy these days ; 
for she had to hunt up her scattered dolls, 
many of them having strayed out of sight. 

Mr. Rowe, though still far from strong, 
was very busy too. 

“ I must drive over to the gardener’s this 
morning to instruct him in regard to the hedge,” 
he said to Mrs. Rowe the next Monday. 

“ Shall we shut up Zip ? ” asked Mrs. Rowe, 
as she brought her husband a glass of milk. 

“No, my dear,” Mr. Rowe smiled. “Let. 
the little Mexican follow. I believe his dog- 


THE MERRY FIVE 


13 


ship thinks none of the family can be trusted 
anywhere without him.” 

As soon as Mr. Rowe had gone, Mrs. Rowe 
hastened to call Molly from the book she was 
reading. 

“ Come, Molly, while papa is away we will 
begin our packing. Please ask Hop Kee to 
take the largest trunk from the store-room, 
and set it down in the upper hall in front 
of the grate.” 

Molly put ** Alice in Wonderland ” upon the 
table with a little sigh, and walked out to 
the kitchen rather more slowly than a girl 
ought to walk when she goes on her mother’s 
errands. She was thinking about Alice and 
that surprising rabbit. What would he do 
next } 

Now, children, you can collect the articles 
that you cannot do without,” said Mrs. Rowe, 
after the trunk had been placed before the 
unused grate. The necessary articles must 


14 


THE MERRY FIVE 


be put in first, for we sha’n’t have room for 
everything you’d like.” 

Kirke immediately brought his tennis-racket, 
his foot-ball, and his jointed fishing-rod, and 
flung them into the trunk. 

“ I must have my tool-box, too, mamma, 
and the ship I’m rigging, and” — 

Any clothes, Kirke ? ” interrupted Molly 
mischievously, as she appeared with an armful 
of bathing-suits. 

Kirke had not thought of clothes ; and when 
these had been hunted up, and laid smoothly 
over the bathing-suits, he grudged them the 
space they occupied. 

But his mamma did not let him remain idle. 

“You may get the hammock next, Kirke, 
and papa’s afghan and pillows.” 

Kirke skipped down-stairs two steps at a 
time, and speedily returned with the hammock 
slung over his shoulder, and bulging in a very 
peculiar manner. 


THE MERRY FIVE 


15 

“ Here’s a big hang-bird’s nest, mamma. 
It has one wee bird in it. Do you want to 
see the fellow hop } ” 

“ O Kirke ! what made you bring Donald 
here now } ” said Mrs. Rowe, with a vexed 
laugh, as Kirke spilled his baby brother at 
her feet. 

Donald scrambled up, and rested his chin 
on the edge of the trunk to see his mamma 
put in the sofa-pillows, and spread blankets 
over them. “P’itty’itty bed,” said he. 

So you think that’s a bed do you, little 
brother ? ” cried Kirke, much amused. ** It 
does look like your cribby, that’s a fact.” 

‘‘P’itty ’itty mamma^' pursued the young 
rogue, throwing his arms about his mother’s 
neck, partly because he loved her, partly be- 
cause he feared she was going to send him 
away. 

“There, sweetheart, that will do,” said she 
at last, between his kisses. “ Mamma is busy 


i6 


THE MERRY FIVE 


now. Brother must take little Donald down- 
stairs.” 

“ Pit-a-bat, pit-a-bat,” pleaded the baby. 
He saw he must go, and, as that was the 
case, preferred to go in state, riding on his 
brother’s back. 

*‘Well, pick-a-back it is, then,” exclaimed 
Kirke, slinging the teasing child across his 
shoulders. In the lower hall he met Captain 
Bradstreet and Pauline. 

“You’re the very young man I want to speak 
to,” cried the cheery captain ; “ I want ” — 

“ Now, papa, Kirke’s not so very young, 
I’m sure,” interrupted Pauline archly. 

Captain Bradstreet chuckled as though his 
motherless daughter had made a witty remark. 

“True, my little girl, Kirke’s not so very 
young ; but then, on the other hand, not so 
old as he may be later.” 

“ I’m going on thirteen. Captain Bradstreet,” 
said Kirke, jealous for his own dignity. 


THE MERRY FIVE 


17 

The captain chuckled again, and wiped his 
sunburned face so hard that Kirke half looked 
for a crimson stain on the white pocket-hand- 
kerchief. 

“Yes, yes, to be sure, you’ll overtake your 
father before long, Kirke. Hop Kee says 
your father’s not at home.” 

“ No ; papa has gone to Mr. Gleason’s, Cap- 
tain Bradstreet.” 

“ We’ve come, Pauline and I, to engage 
you and that big sister of yours to visit us 
at our camp when we’re settled in it. Pauline 
won’t sleep a wink till this thing’s arranged. 
Can we see your mother.?” 

Kirke set Donald down upon the floor, and 
hastened to the upper hall, where Molly was 
capering about in the wildest excitement. 

“ O mamma ! did you hear what Captain 
Bradstreet said .? Did you hear .? He wants 
Kirke and me to make a visit at his camp — 
I never made a visit at a camp in my life ! ” 


i8 


THE MERRY FIVE 


Yes, mamma,” said Kirke, in the same low 
tone, Captain Bradstreet wants to ask you if 
Molly and I can go. Came on purpose.” 

“ O mamma ! you’ll say yes ; won’t you ? ” 
begged Molly. 

Mrs. Rowe was hastily laying aside her 
apron. 

“ We’ll ask papa, Molly. Captain Bradstreet 
is certainly very kind.” 

don’t think Captain Bradstreet’s kind — 
I don’t think he’s kind a bit,” muttered little 
Miss Weezy, as the others went down-stairs. 

Never ’vited me at all ! Didn’t I ’vite him 
to my seven-years-old party, ice-cream to it 
too ? O dear, dear, dear ! ” 

Unloading an apronful of dolls in a heap 
by the trunk, offended little Weezy stole down 
the back staircase into the garden to confide 
her sorrows to Ginger, Molly’s yellow kitten. 

“ Captain Bradstreet said I was a nice, sweet 
little girl ; he said it two times, he truly did. 


THE MERRY FIVE 


19 


And now he’s gone and asked Kirke and 
Molly to go to his — to his something — oh, 
yes, he’s asked them, and never asked me.” 

Ginger purred softly, and rubbed her head 
against her little mistress’s feet ; but Weezy 
could not be comforted. What a miserable 
old world it was to be sure, where captains 
called you nice, sweet little girls, and then 
went and didn’t invite you to their — to their 
— she couldn’t quite remember what. 

Grown-up people liked big boys and girls 
like Kirke and Molly ; they didn’t like little 
ones like herself and Donald. 

Poor little Donald, he was crying too. She 
heard him. What was he crying about } 
Weezy wondered. And where was he ? He 
seemed a' great way off, by the sound, ’most 
up in the sky. Why didn’t somebody find 
him and make him happy } 


20 


THE MERRY FIVE 


CHAPTER II 

DONALD HIDES 

Weezy, Weezy, is Donald out there in 
the garden with you ? ” 

This was Molly calling from the back 
porch. 

“No, he isn’t,” answered Weezy, in a dis- 
couraged tone. 

“ He’s screaming himself hoarse, Weezy, 
and we can’t find him anywhere in the 
house.” 

“ I haven’t seen him.” Weezy walked 
slowly toward her sister. “ Has Captain 
Bradstreet gone, Molly t ” 

“Yes, Weezy, and Pauline.” 

“Did Captain Bradstreet say” — 

“Maybe Donald followed Pauline and her 


DONALD HIDES 


2 


father home, Molly,” suggested Mrs. Rowe 
from the doorway. 

No, mamma. I’ve been over to ask. I 
couldn’t hear Donald on that side of the 
street, either. He must be in this house.” 

‘‘ Then, I’d like to know where, Molly,” ex- 
claimed Kirke, springing out upon the porch. 
“I’ve dived into all the wardrobes and under 
all the beds.” 

His face was crimson, and his hair on end 
like the spines of a sea-urchin. A cobweb 
dangled from his coat-sleeve. 

“ Have you looked in the sideboard, Kirke.” 

“ No, I haven’t, Molly ; and I haven’t looked 
in the salt-cellars.” 

“ Oh, you funny boy ! ” tittered Weezy, who 
regarded the search as a protracted and 
rather diverting game of hide-and-go-seek. 

Mrs. Rowe, on the contrary, was becoming 
seriously troubled. 

“ Where can the darling be, Molly } ” she 


22 


THE MERRY FIVE 


cried, rushing back into the house, and hurry- 
ing from room to room. I can hardly hear 
his voice now. How faint it has grown ! ” 

“ It is loudest here in the hall, mamma,” 
said Molly, who had run ahead, and halted 
abruptly at the foot of the front stairway. 

“ Donny is up chimney, I guess,” cried 
little Louise, dancing to the fireplace. 

‘‘Nonsense, Weezy ; do you think he is a 
bat } ” retorted Molly. 

Kirke dropped on his knees before the 
hearth. He had been stuck in a chimney 
once himself, and the recollection always made 
his flesh creep. 

“ If Donald has crawled up this flue, Molly, 
it’s no laughing matter, let me tell you.” 

“ What are you talking about, Kirke } Don- 
ald couldn’t crawl up that flue; it is alto- 
gether too small.” 

“ I’m not so sure, Molly. Don can squeeze 
through a knothole.” 


DONALD HIDES 


23 

“ Donald, Donald darling,” called Mrs. 
Rowe shrilly. Where are you, Donald } 
Tell mamma.” 

A plaintive, muffled wail floated down the 
air. 

“Turn, mamma, turn.” 

“ Donald is in the chimney, mamma ! Oh, 
I’m so afraid he is in here ! ” groaned Kirke, 
trying to gaze into the chimney’s blackened 
throat. 

But he only bumped his head against 
the andirons and twisted his neck for 
nothing. 

There are bricks in the way, mamma, 
stacks of them. I can’t see a single thing.” 

“ Turn, oh, turn ! ” cried the choked voice 
again ; and this time they were sure it came 
from above them. 

But did it actually proceed from the throat 
of the chimney It was Mrs. Rowe who 
first thought of the unused grate in the 


24 


THE MERRY FIVE 


upper hall. Might not Donald have wedged 
his restless little body into that ? He was 
constantly teasing to go up on the roof. 

Here I am, dearest, mamma is here,” she 
called, mounting the staircase, the children 
at her heels, and stumbling across the clothing 
that strewed the floor. 

Before the grate stood the large trunk she 
had been packing. She had left it open, and 
now it was closed ; but she was too agitated 
to notice the change. 

‘‘ Quick, Kirke, this trunk is in the way. 
Help me move it out from the grate.” 

Kirke laid hold of the handle nearest. 

What a heavy trunk, mamma ! What 
makes ” — 

At that moment there was a stifled cry 
of Mamma, mamma ! ” 

Kirke jumped as if he had been shot, for 
the words seemed spoken directly in his ear- 
Donald’s in the trunk,” he roared, letting 


DONALD HIDES 


25 


go the handle. “The little monkey is in the 
trunk ! ” 

“ He’s packed himself, Donny’s packed 
himself ! ” shouted Weezy, hopping about on 
one foot. “ What an ever-so-queer baby ! ” 
Molly flew to the trunk, but it was fastened. 
“ Oh, this lock ! This hateful, hateful 
spring-lock. Where is the key ” 

“ I left it in the lock. I know I left it in 
the lock,” exclaimed Mrs. Rowe, groping has- 
tily about the carpet. Help me, children, 
do help me find it ! ” 

“ Turn, mamma. Why don’t 00 turn } ” 

The voice was very low, oh, very, very low, 
little more than a sigh. 

“Yes, yes, my baby ; mamma will come.” 
Mrs. Rowe was yet hunting the key, and 
hunting to no purpose. 

“Bring a hammer, Kirke,” she cried hur- 
riedly. “ Bring a screw-driver — no, a chisel. 
Call Hop Kee.” 


26 


THE MERRY FIVE 


It seemed centuries before Kirke returned 
with the tools ; in reality it was only three 
minutes. Then Hop Kee came flying in as 
though fired from a sling or swung by his 
own long pigtail. Behind him appeared Cap- 
tain Bradstreet and Pauline to learn if Donald 
had been found ; and among them all the 
trunk was speedily opened. 

Little Donald lay upon the pillows gasping 
for breath, and clasping in his chubby hand 
the missing key. 

“ Peepaboo, Donny ! Peepaboo ! ” cried 
Weezy. 

But the released prisoner did not answer. 
Mrs. Rowe caught the pale, limp little fellow 
to her breast with a sob of thanksgiving. 

“ Mamma is here, my baby. Did you think 
mamma never, never would come ” 

The child snuggled close in her arms, too 
exhausted to utter a word. 

“ Look up, dearest ; mamma has you I 


DONALD HIDES 2 / 

Smile, mother’s darling, mamma has found 
her lost baby.” 

Yes, praise God ! You’ve found your boy, 
Mrs. Rowe, and found him not one minute 
too soon,” muttered Captain Bradstreet, throw- 
ing up the windows. “ If he had not made 
himself heard, he might have shared the fate 
of Ginevra.” 

“ Don’t mention it. Captain Bradstreet,” 
shuddered Mrs. Rowe. “The story of ^ Gi- 
nevra flashed into my mind the moment I 
discovered where Donald was.” 

“ Who was Ginevra, anyway, Molly ? ” asked 
Kirke, a little later. 

The Captain and Pauline had gone, Mr. 
Rowe had come home, and the color was 
returning to Donald’s cheeks. 

“ Oh ! don’t you know, Kirke ? Why, Gi- 
nevra was that gay young bride, — Italian, I 
believe, — who ran off after her wedding, and 
hid herself in a chest.” 


28 


THE MERRY FIVE 


‘‘What did she do that for?” 

“Why just for fun, to make the guests 
hunt for her. They were all playing hide- 
and-go-seek.” 

“ Well, what next, Molly ? ” 

“ And the chest had a spring-lock.” 

“Oh! I see.” 

“Yes, the springiest kind of a spring-lock; 
and the poor little bride was no sooner inside 
the^ chest than the lid snapped down on her. 
There she had to stay ; and she wasn’t found 
for a hundred years ? ” 

“A hundred years!” echoed Weezy, in 
dismay. “ O Molly ! didn’t she have anything 
to eat for a whole hundred years ? ” 

“ I guess she didn’t want anything to eat, 
Weezy,” said Kirke, with a sly wink at Molly. 
“ Not toward the last of it, anyway. I guess 
she had lost her appetite.” 

“ O Kirke ! you wretched boy,” said Molly. 

But Kirke’s shocking sarcasm had been 


DONALD HIDES 


29 


quite lost on Weezy. She bad picked up a 
box-cover from the floor, and was fanning 
Donald as he lay across his mother’s lap. 
“ Did you think that was a truly, truly little 
bed, Donald.?” 

Donald nodded drowsily. 

‘‘Babies shouldn’t go to sleep in trunks. 
Oh, you droll, droll little brother ! ” 

Weezy’s remark had called up a painful 
memory, and Donald’s lip began to quiver. 

“ Don’t wike p’itty ’itty bed. All dark. 
Mamma all gone.” 

“ We won’t talk about it, darling,” said Mrs. 
Rowe, kissing the tear-stained face. “ Here 
you are in sister’s arms, and sister shall sing 
to you. What do you want to hear her sing .? ” 
“ Sing Robbitty-bobbitty,” replied Donald, 
swallowing a sob. And Weezy piped up in 
a clear, sweet treble : — 

“ Robinty-bobbinty bent his bow 
To shoot a pitcher and killed a crow.” 


30 


THE MERRY FIVE 


CHAPTER III 

SANTA LUZIA 

“Here comes Miss Hobbs, mamma, rolling 
along with the clothes-basket.” 

Wednesday morning had arrived, and Kirke 
was upon the side porch helping his mother 
strap her grip-sack. Miss Hobbs was bring- 
ing home some starched clothes too fine to 
be laundered by Sing High, the “wash-man;” 
and beside her walked her roly-poly niece 
and nephew, Essie and Harry. 

“I daren’t leave them at *ome by their 
little selves, Mrs. Rowe,” she wheezed in 
mounting the steps. “Hessie is that con- 
triving of mischief, an’ such an obstinate 
child.” 

Essie hung her head, though not too low 


SANTA LUZIA 


31 


to see the banana that Mrs. Rowe presently 
brought her. 

“ What do you say, Hessie ? For shame ! 
Can’t you thank the lady ? ” 

‘‘Tank 00,” mumbled Essie in the act of 
skinning the fruit with her sharp little 
teeth. 

“That’s a good gell, Hessie. You and 
’Arry must heat your bananas ’ere on the 
porch while I carry in the clothes. 

“ If you’ll believe it, Mrs. Rowe, that 
rogue of a Hessie ran away again yesterday,” 
she continued, following Mrs. Rowe into the 
side hall. “A beastly race she led us. She 
tired ’Arry hall out.” 

“ Harry looks delicate this summer,” re- 
marked Mrs. Rowe, as she began to sort the 
clothes into piles. 

“ ’Arry’s fat, Mrs. Rowe, but he isn’t 
rugged. If I could lay ’ands on the gold 
I’ve buried I’d take him away for his ’ealth.” 


32 


THE MERRY FIVE 


“Why can’t Miss Hobbs get her gold, 
mamma?” whispered Weezy, coming in just 
then. “ Can’t Kirke and I dig it up for 
her ? ” 

“Miss Hobbs means, dear, that she has 
spent her money for land that she cannot 
sell, and so she can’t afford to take Harry 
into the country this summer.” 

“ You’d better let him go to Santa Luzia 
with the Rowe family,” laughed Kirke, as 
his mother gave him some garments to carry 
up-stairs. “ Let him go, and I’ll see to him.” 

“ Thank you. Master Kirke,” — Miss Hobbs’s 
ample sides shook merrily, — “ but while 
you’re seeing to ’Arry who’ll see to you ? ” 

Kirke looked nettled, especially when she 
went on to say, “No, no, your ma’ll have 
enough young folks to keep steady without 
’aving my ’Arry.” 

Mrs. Rowe smiled thoughtfully at these 
jesting remarks. A fortnight at the beach 



"You’d better let him go to Santa Luzia.” 


Page 32 





SANTA LUZIA 33 

would doubtless be a benefit to the ailing 
child. Could this be arranged She must 
consider the question. 

“We are all fond of Harry,” she remarked, 
in handing Miss Hobbs the empty basket. 
“ He’s a good little boy.” 

“ Oh, ’Arry’s decent, Mrs. Rowe,” responded 
Miss Hobbs, with a complacent glance at the 
hall clock. 

“The clock is too fast. Miss Hobbs.” 

“ Is she ? I thought she must be quite 
a few minutes on ; but we won’t stay to hin- 
der you.” And Miss Hobbs tied her sun- 
bonnet. 

“You’ll come around again this afternoon. 
Miss Hobbs, to close the house .? ” 

“ For certain, Mrs. Rowe. I’ll close the 
’ouse, and take charge of the key.” 

“ Which key. Miss Hobbs } Hop Kee, or 
door-key ? ” asked Kirke, with mock inno- 


cence. 


34 


THE MERRY FIVE 


‘^Not Hop Kee, you may rely on that, 
Master Kirke,” retorted Miss Hobbs, putting 
on her shawl as if it had been a bandage. 

I wouldn’t take charge of a Chinaman for 
all the teapots he could break.” 

“ Hop Kee will work for the Bradstreets 
while we’re away. Miss Hobbs.” 

“ So there is where he’s going. I knew 
the captain’s housekeeper was sick.” 

“And when the family move into camp, 
they’ll take Hop Kee along with them.” 

Captain Bradstreet’s name had reminded 
Weezy of her old grievance. 

“O Miss Hobbs! Captain Bradstreet has 
’vited Kirke and Molly to go into that camp 
thing, and he hasn’t ever ’vited me,” she 
complained, holding the door ajar for Miss 
Hobbs to pass out. “I don’t think it’s fair.” 

“Never mind, little woman I You’ll have 
your share of hinvitations before many years,” 
— Miss Hobbs gave the others a wise look. 


SANTA LUZIA 


35 


“ I’m sorry to ’ave you all go ; but I ’ope 
you’ll ’ave a good summer, and I pray the 
Lord’ll keep you well and ’appy.” 

‘‘ Oh ! He will ; He always does,” answered 
little Miss Weezy for the family. “Good-by, 
Miss Hobbs.” 

After that Harry and Essie came in with 
sticky hands and faces to make their farewell 
speeches ; and then their Aunt Ruth waddled 
homeward between them like a plump mother- 
duck between two plump ducklings. 

They were met at the corner by a hand- 
some, dark-eyed Spanish boy. It was Man- 
uel Carillo, coming to take away Kirke’s 
burro and cart to keep during vacation. 

“You’ll be good to Hoppity, this summer, 
won’t you, Manuel } ” said Kirke playfully, 
as he helped him harness the sleek gray 
burro into the trig gray cart. “You won’t 
be mad with him because he threw you and 
broke your leg.” 


36 


THE MERRY FIVE 


^‘Mad? Oh, no! that’s all right.” 

Manuel grinned, and slapped the limb in 
question to show how strong it was. 

“ Hoppity ought to help you carry around 
your newspapers to pay for that bad trick of 
his. Now, oughtn’t you, Hoppity } ” said 
Kirke, giving the little beast a parting love- 
pat. 

Kirke was glad to lend Manuel the burro. 
It seemed one way of making amends for the 
sad accident of the year before that had been 
caused partly by his own recklessness. 

When Kirke returned to the house the 
family were sitting down to an early luncheon. 
Molly made room for him beside herself, 
saying cheerily, — 

“ Manuel drove by the window just now, 
smiling all over his face. How much he does 
think of you, Kirke 1 ” 

“ I don’t know about that, Molly, but he 
thinks a good deal of Hoppity. He’ll have 


SANTA LUZIA 


37 


a splendid time with the little trotter while 
we’re away.” 

‘^Kirke has made many friends at Silver 
Gate City,” remarked his mother. Harry 
Hobbs for one.” Then, turning to Mr. Rowe, 
she added, in a sprightly tone, — Kirke pro- 
poses doing a little missionary work during 
vacation, papa. Have you any objection to 
his taking care of a ‘ fresh-air child ’ for a 
fortnight.?” 

“ A ‘ fresh-air child,’ my dear .? I don’t 
quite understand.” 

“Well, Harry Hobbs, for instance. Harry 
is in need of a change of scene. Do you 
approve his coming to Santa Luzia by and 
by .? ” 

“ O papa ! I was only in fun,” exclaimed 
Kirke in hot haste. “ I don’t want Harry 
to come ; really and truly I don’t. Paul and 
I have planned no end of good times there 
on the beach by ourselves.” 


38 


THE MERRY FIVE 


“And you think Harry wouldn’t enjoy those 
good times ? Is that it, my son ? ” 

“No, papa; Harry would enjoy them fast, 
enough,” Kirke laughed and blushed ; “ the 
bother is that Paul and I wouldn’t enjoy 
him. The little kid would be frightfully in 
the way with his mud-pies, and his tagging, 
and his chattering. Don’t you see, papa } ” 
“ Then, Miss Hobbs dresses Harry so oddly, 
papa,” added Molly, as her father did not 
reply. “ She makes him look for all the 
world like one of Mr. Palmer Cox’s brownies ; 
and people at Santa Luzia wouldn’t know 
but Harry was one of our family.” 

“ What a shocking thought, Molly ! ” cried 
Mr. Rowe, vastly entertained by her expression 
of deep distress. “ In the face of a danger like 
this it never will do for us to take Harry.” 

“You’re laughing at me, papa; but you 
don’t understand how girls feel about such 
things. Kirke doesn’t understand, either.” 


SANTA LUZIA 


39 


‘‘Girls have too many feelings, I think,” 
said Kirke, not very politely. “ They’re al- 
ways afraid of doing something queer.” 

“ I wish boys were a little more like them, 
then,” — Molly pushed back her plate with a 
saucy air, “ boys never care a fig what is said 
of them.” 

“That’s because they’re independent, Molly.” 
“ It’s because they don’t know what is 
proper, I say,” retorted Molly between fun 
and earnest. “ Why, I’ve seen boys that 
would walk into church with monkeys on 
their backs and never blush.” 

“ I’m afraid Kirke will consider you 
rude, Molly,” interposed her mother gently. 
“ Aren’t we wandering very far from Harry ? ” 
“The farther the better,” was Molly’s se- 
cret comment, as Mrs. Rowe continued, — 

“ I hoped you children would want to do 
something nice for Harry. His aunt is not 
able to give him many pleasures.” 


40 


THE MERRY FIVE 


** She gave him a Caroline cooky yesterday, 
mamma,” put in Weezy ; “ full of seeds, it 
was. Harry let me bite.” 

‘‘But, mamma, we cant take Harry with 
us,” exclaimed Molly, elated by the sudden 
thought; “Miss Hobbs can’t possibly get 
him ready in time for the train.” 

“As to that, Molly, she can send him next 
month by Captain Bradstreet.” 

“ May be Mrs. Kitto won’t have room for 
Harry,” suggested Molly faintly. 

Kirke dashed this hope to the ground. 
Harry, he affirmed, could be rolled into any 
corner like a foot-ball. 

“ The question is simply this, children,” 
said Mrs. Rowe, buttering a biscuit for Don- 
ald to eat on the car; “will you devote a 
part of your vacation to your little neighbor, 
or will you spend the whole of it in amusing 
yourselves } You shall decide.” 

“ O mamma ! please don’t leave it that way. 


SANTA LUZIA 


41 


Don’t put us on our honor,” entreated Molly, 
with a shrug. 

“ Because, when you put us on our honor, 
we have to do a thing, even if we hate it 
like poison,” added Kirke, groping under the 
sideboard for the yellow kitten. 

Kitty’s basket was ready, with a slice of 
roast beef at the bottom, and a smart blue 
bow on top ; and now at the last moment 
Ginger had refused to be put in. 

‘‘ Head her off, Molly. Shut the door, 
Weezy. Look out, Don, or I shall run over 
you ! ” 

Kirke shouted his orders like a general in 
battle. Everybody jostled against everybody 
else, and Ginger was no sooner captured than 
the carriage came to take them all to the 
station. Then followed the excitement of the 
journey and of the arrival at Santa Luzia ; 
and for several days nothing further was said 
about Harry Hobbs. 


42 


THE MERRY FIVE 


CHAPTER IV 

LEARNING TO SWIM 

The children were delighted with the lovely 
little city of Santa Luzia, which lay upon the 
coast, snuggling in its arms a placid, sunny 
bay. For the first week after their arrival 
Weezy never tired of watching the sails on 
the water, and of counting how many she 
could see from her window at “ The Old and 
New.” 

“ The Old and New ” was Mrs. Kitto’s 
boarding-house, overlooking Santa Luzia 
Beach. The Old was the back part, built 
of brown adobe, with walls two feet thick ; 
the New was the modern wooden front, with a 
breezy veranda stepping down toward the sea. 

‘'The house puts its best foot forward,” 


LEARNING TO SWIM 


43 


prattled Molly, as she and Kirke and Weezy 
set off one morning for a lesson in swimming. 

** That’s all right,” replied Kirke, ‘‘if it 
keeps steady on its pins.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” 
sniffed Weezy with disapproval. “ Houses 
don’t have feet ; and they don’t have pins.” 

“No, nor soles either, you precious snip 
of a goosie.” 

Kirke held his little sister’s hand, swinging 
it to and fro as they walked together across 
the beach. 

“Are you going to squeal to-day when you 
go into the water } The last time you scared 
the swimming-master half out of his wits.” 

“ O Kirke, what a story ! ” 

“ I’ll leave it to Molly if the man didn’t 
duck.” 

“ You silly, silly boy ! You know he 
ducked on purpose.” 

Weezy flirted her sunny head in high dis- 


44 


THE MERRY FIVE 


dain, while Kirke and Molly exchanged amused 
glances. 

‘‘ Do you think so, Weezy } Well, may be 
he did duck on purpose. I mean to try that 
ducking business myself this morning. What- 
ever you do, little sister, don’t grab me around 
the neck ; you might pull me under.” 

Kirke spoke in jest. He could already swim 
quite well, for he had learned the art a year 
or two before in the East. Molly and Weezy, 
on the contrary, had only taken three lessons. 

“Hoh, Kirke! I couldn’t pull you under. 
Of course not, ’cause you’re biggerern I am,” 
said Weezy, stopping to watch a small urchin 
scooping ovens in the sand. 

He was a plump little boy in brownie” 
overalls, which Molly insisted made him look 
like a fat, twisted doughnut. 

“He looks like Harry Hobbs,” responded 
Kirke, hurrying Weezy on towards the bath- 
house. 


LEARNING TO SfVIM 


45 


Molly felt a sudden twinge of conscience. 

“That makes me think, Kirke, what shall 
we do about Harry ? If he comes, he’ll have 
to come next week with the Bradstreets. 
Mamma has left it to us, you know, to ask 
him or not, as we please.” 

Kirke whistled, and kicked aside a tangle 
of seaweed. 

“ Oh ! we might as well invite the young 
Britisher, I suppose.” 

“But if Harry comes, Kirke, you and I’ll 
each have to keep an eye on him to ” — 

“Yes, that’ll be an eye apiece, Molly.” 

“To see that he doesn’t get drowned or 
anything.” 

“Pooh, Miss Fidgetibus, who’s going to 
drown him ? You couldn’t sink that dumpy 
boy any more’n you could sink the buoy on- 
the rock yonder.” 

“I thought you didn’t want Harry any 
more than I did, Kirke.” 


46 


THE MERRY FIVE 


“ Who says I do want him ? Only I was 
thinking he could burrow here in all out- 
doors like a gopher ; and it seems sort of 
mean, doesn’t it, Molly, to shut down on 
the poor little kid?” 

I — don’t — know.” 

Molly’s glance had wandered from the 
sturdy young oven-builder to a group of well- 
dressed tourists climbing the long flight of 
steps to the bluff overhead. How mortify- 
ing it would be to take Harry about among 
people like those, and pose as his sister. 
Where did Miss Hobbs get the patterns of 
his clothes ? 

“ The beach will make Harry weller, 
mamma says,” observed Weezy, always ready 
to fill the pauses. 

“ Better^ you mean, don’t you, Weezy ? ” 
corrected Molly. Mamma is always wanting 
to make somebody better.” 

‘^You’re right, ma’am,” Kirke nodded em- 


LEARNING TO SWIM 


47 


phatically. “ Mamma is kind, way through. 
She isn’t much like you and me, Molly. 
Sometimes we’re kind, and then again some- 
times we’re kind of not.^' 

“ Thank you, sir ; you can speak for your- 
self, if you please,” retorted Molly, bridling. 

She had secretly prided herself on being 
unselfish and warm-hearted, and this frank 
remark was wounding to her self-love. 

“For my part. I’m willing to send for 
Harry,” she added virtuously. 

“ So am I, Molly, — on a pinch,” said Kirke. 
“And I suppose Pauline will bring him, — on 
a pinch ! ” 

“Then, as soon as we get home to The 
Old and New, Kirke, we’ll ask mamma to 
write to Miss Hobbs, and have it over with.” 

“Agreed. The Bradstreets will be here 
by next Thursday, won’t they } Will they 
stay at The Old and New a week.^” 

“They’ll stay till the captain and Hop 


48 


THE MERRY FIVE 


Kee get Camp Hilarious in running order,” 
answered Molly, as they mounted the steps 
of the bath-house. 

While Kirke presented their tickets at the 
office, she and Weezy waited in the main 
room. This had a large oblong bathing-tank 
in the centre, surrounded on its four sides 
by a broad walk. The dressing-rooms opened 
upon this walk, and the door of each one 
had painted on it near the top either a num- 
ber or a letter of the alphabet. 

“ Which room would you like, Molly ” 
asked Kirke, quickly returning with the keys 
and their bathing-suits. ‘*You can take ‘H’ 
or 'No. 7.’ ” 

" No. 7 ; it is the larger,” said Molly, draw- 
ing Weezy into that room, and locking the 
door. 

Kirke vanished into “ H,” to reappear be- 
fore No. 7 in precisely two minutes, clad in 
blue flannel, and calling, — 


LEARNING TO SWIM 49 

“What! Aren’t you ready yet, girls?” 

That was the fun of being a boy, and 
having no strings and no hooks and eyes 
to hinder him 1 

On emerging into the main room the chil- 
dren found their father seated there awaiting 
them. He had formed the habit of being 
present at their swimming-lessons. 

“ I feel safer to watch my ducklings,” 
Molly heard him say to Mr. Tullis, the swim- 
ming-master, as she and Weezey drew near. 

“Your daughters are learning fast, espe- 
cially this little one,” answered Mr. Tullis, 
looking at Weezy. “ She’ll soon swim like 
a fish.” 

Mr. Rowe patted Weezy’s head, shining 
beneath her oiled-silk cap. 

“ She’s a venturesome little lassie,” he said. 
“She never seems to know what fear is.” 

“ She’ll make all the better swimmer for 


that, Mr. Rowe.” 


50 


THE MERRY FIVE 


Provided she doesn’t take too great risks, 
Mr. Tullis. I’ve sometimes feared we ought 
not to let her go into the water.” 

“Anybody’s liable to get into water, Mr. 
Rowe ; the point is to know how to get 
out,” replied the swimming-master lightly. 

Molly and Kirke hardly heeded the remark 
at the time, but it rang in their ears after- 
ward. 

Mr. Tullis was already leading Weezy down 
the steps into the tank, which was divided 
across the middle by a low wall of stone. 
On one side of this wall the water was cold, 
but on the side they were entering it was 
agreeably warm ; and Weezy was soon pad- 
dling about with great glee, supported under 
the chin by the strong hand of the swimming- 
master. 

“Look, papa, see how well I can do it!” 
she cried, splashing and puffing like a young 
seal, till she was out of breath. 


LEARNING TO SWIM $1 

** You’d better rest a few minutes now, 
little girl,” said Mr. Tullis. 

And leaving Weezy clinging to a plank, he 
went to instruct Molly in swimming. 

Meantime Kirke had been making ludi- 
crous attempts to mount a hobby-horse, which, 
being mostly barrel, would rear and plunge 
as often as he tried to get astride its back. 
Finally, tired of these fruitless efforts, he 
climbed the staircase near by to coast down 
the toboggan slide with some other boys. 

Mr. Rowe looked on as his son dashed 
down the slippery board again and again, 
and dived into the tank. Then he glanced 
at his more timid Molly, flushed with trying 
to strike out for herself, and at little Miss 
Weezy, floating gayly on her plank ; and he 
mused, — 

“What a blessing it is to be young and 
strong ! I wish my children could appreciate 
this, and could know how happy they are.” 


52 


THE MERRY FIVE 


And at that very moment Kirke and Molly 
were thinking, — 

“ Won’t we have good times by and by, 
after Paul and Pauline have come ? ” 

And little Miss Weezy was thinking; but 
she herself could hardly have told what she 
was thinking. 



/n(> 


" Pauline and 


Molly were swinging 


in a hammock." 

Page 53 




AT THE BEACH 


53 


CHAPTER V 

AT THE BEACH 

“ I WONDER what you’ll think of our camp, 
Molly.” 

Pauline and Molly were swinging in a ham- 
mock on the front veranda of The Old and 
New, chattering like spring chickadees. 

The Bradstreets had arrived from Silver 
Gate City the previous evening, bringing 
Harry Hobbs with them ; and Captain Brad- 
street had gone on to the canyon that morn- 
ing with Hop Kee. 

“ Papa has a wooden building up there, — 
sort of a shanty, where he stores the furni- 
ture every winter,” went on Pauline. It is 
near to Mr. Arnesten’s cottage, and Mr. 
Arnesten sees to things when papa is away.” 


54 


THE MERRY FIVE 


Are the Arnestens all the neighbors you 
have, Pauline ? ” 

“Yes, unless you count the Wassons. But 
the Wassons are three miles away, on papa’s 
bee-ranch. We’ll go to see them, Molly, when 
you’re at the camp.” 

“ Oh, that’ll be delightful ! ” Molly pushed 
her heavy auburn hair away from her face, 
a habit of hers when things pleased her. 

“Right after breakfast every morning, 
Molly, we’ll put on our sunbonnets, — you 
can borrow auntie’s, — and we’ll march over 
to Mr. Arnesten’s for the eggs, and see him 
feed the chickens. He has turkeys besides, 
and one proud old gobbler that struts about 
as if he owned all the gold mines of Cali- 
fornia.” 

“Didn’t you say the Arnestens had a little 
girl, Pauline } ” 

“Yes, Olga, the old-fashionedest little soul ! 
She has eyes just the color of a grindstone. 


AT THE BEACH 


55 


but her lashes are yellow, and her skin is 
yellow too. She used to trudge over with 
buttermilk last summer.” 

“ Then the Arnestens have a cow ? ” 

“ I should say they do ! It’s always break- 
ing into the garden and eating up the pease. 
We mind that, because Mr. Arnesten supplies 
us with vegetables.” 

“ And with chickens too, I suppose, Polly ? ” 

‘‘ Yes ; Hop Kee cooks chickens beautifully.” 

“ Doesn’t he ? It seems odd enough, Pau- 
line, to think of your having our Chinaman.” 

“ He came to our house in just the right 
time, Molly. Mrs. Cannon was so sick she 
couldn’t have worked for us another day.” 

‘‘Hop Kee is a diamond, Polly.” 

“ A topaz, you mean, dear, a yellow topaz. 
How we shall hate to give him back to 
you ! ” 

Molly snuggled her dimpled chin into her 
friend’s neck. 


56 


THE MERRY FIVE 


‘‘ I wouldn’t worry about that, Pauline. We 
sha’n’t go home these two months.” 

‘‘Neither shall we, I hope. Papa told me 
yesterday that we should stay in the canyon 
all during vacation. Then, if Uncle John isn’t 
back from the East, auntie will go home 
with us to Silver Gate City.” 

“I’m just longing to see your Auntie David. 
Are you sure she’ll come to-day, Pauline ? ” 

“She wrote that she should come to-day, 
and spend a week here at The Old and New 
with Paul and me. Papa can take us all out 
to the camp together.” 

“ Oh, dear, Polly ! you won’t be here but 
just seven days. And I haven’t entertained 
you at all. What shall we do this afternoon } 
Shall we go to the bath-house.?” 

“ I’d rather fish,” answered Pauline promptly. 
“If there’s anything I dote on, it’s fishing.” 

“ I want to fish,” cried Harry Hobbs, from 
the corner of the veranda. “ Can’t I fish ? ” 


AT THE BEACH 57 

The little newcomer was tired of stringing 
sea-shells with Weezy. Sewing was girls’ 
work. 

‘‘ Don’t you and Weezy want to dig in the 
sand } ” asked Molly, in her sweetest tones. 
“ I’ll find you the dearest little pails and 
shovels.” 

‘‘ I can dig at ’ome,” responded Harry, with 
a grieved look. But he did not tease Molly. 
He had promised his Aunt Ruth that he 
wouldn’t be troublesome. 

“ Oh ! let him go fishing, Molly,” said Pau- 
line, stepping out of the hammock. *‘And 
let’s ask the boys too. They’ll take care of 
him.” 

If they can leave their stilts, Pauline. 
They’re stalking round the back yard like — 
like ” — 

‘‘ Like storks, of course,” concluded Pauline, 
leaning over the veranda rail to see the lads 
better. “ Come, boys, won’t you go fishing ? ” 


58 


THE MERRY FIVE 


“ Do you want to, Paul ? ” asked Kirke 
aside ; for was not Paul his especial chum ? 

Paul nodded, and strode to the back porch 
in order to dismount on its high platform. 

“ Paul and Pll meet the rest of you at the 
wharf, Molly,” called Kirke, already upon the 
ground. “You’ll take the fishing-tackle, won’t 
you "i We’ll bring the bait.” 

The bait was little crawfishes. The boys 
had to buy these of an old fisherman on the 
flats, who kept a supply of live ones in a pail 
covered with wet seaweed. 

“ It’s fun to see Mr. Tarbox catch the craw- 
fish,” said Paul, when they were near the 
fish-house. “ I saw him do it last summer.” 

“ How does he go to work ? ” 

“ Oh ! he treads a circle about six feet 
across in the mud. Pretty soon the water 
soaks into this ring, and the little crawfish ’ll 
crawl in. All Mr. Tarbox has to do is to 
scoop them up.” 


AT THE BEACH 59 

That’s why he can afford to sell them 
cheap,” said Kirke. 

“ But he asks more in the winter,” said 
Paul. 

Kirke bought two dozen crawfish for a 
nickel ; and he and Paul carried them back to 
the beach, where the girls and Harry were 
waiting. 

After the hooks had been baited, the three 
boys and the three girls walked out upon the 
wharf, Molly holding Harry by the hand. 
He was a clumsy little fellow, and she was 
afraid he might fall over the edge. She had 
no such fear for nimble-footed Weezy. Then 
they threw in their lines, and waited and 
waited, while the sun grew hotter and hotter. 
They waited in vain. Nobody had a nibble. 

At last Pauline reeled in her line with a 
petulant motion. 

Supposing we give up fishing, and go 
around Bird Rocks to hunt for abalones.” 


6o 


THE MERRY FIVE 


‘‘A good idea,” said Paul. ^‘The tide is 
low, and maybe we can find abalones enough 
for a soup to-morrow.” 

“ A soup, indeed ! Will you hear the boy t ” 
cried lively Pauline. “ Paul thinks only of 
soup, and not at all of the beauty of the 
shells.” 

“ I’d rather have one large abalone shell 
than forty herrings,” said Molly, escorting 
Harry to the mainland. 

“Especially than forty herrings that won’t 
be caught,” added Kirke, dropping his tackle 
into the basket. “ Perhaps we shall have bet- 
ter luck after the tide begins to come in.” 

“ I shouldn’t wonder. We’ll try again later,” 
said Pauline, lingering at the end of the wharf 
while Kirke concealed the basket beneath it. 

Then the two hastened forward to overtake 
Paul and Molly, who had set out for the rocky 
cave beyond Bird Rocks. Weezy and Harry 
lagged behind the others, Harry’s short fat 


AT THE BEACH 


6l 


legs being already weary of ploughing through 
the sand. 

Weezy was very polite to her little guest, 
and very proud to show him the wonders of 
Santa Luzia, which she seemed to regard as 
the especial property of herself and her 
family. 

“This is one of our owl shells,” said she 
presently, bringing Harry a limpet shell 
about as large as the palm of her hand. 

Harry eyed it sharply. 

“Where’s the kowlf' 

“ On the inside. Don’t you see, Harry ? ” 

“ That } That isn’t a howl. It hasn’t any 
’ead, Weezy.” 

“Why, yes, it has, Harry. I think it has 
a good head, a very good head indeed.” 

What did Harry mean by finding fault 
with her lovely shell } For a moment Weezy 
was too vexed to remember that he was her 


company. 


62 


THE MERRY FIVE 


By this time the others had passed beyond 
the ledge which shut off the beach from the 
rocky cove, and flarry and Weezy were 
alone on the sandy shore. Before them was 
the ocean, behind them the high bluff, 
climbed by a wooden stairway. Near the 
foot of this stairway stood the wharf where 
the children had just been fishing. 

Weezy looked back at the wharf regret- 
fully. She wished that she had stayed there, 
instead of walking on the tiresome beach 
with a little boy only six years old, — a tiny 
boy that didn’t like her owl shells ! 

Why shouldn’t she go back now to the 
wharf } Nobody had said she mustn’t ; and 
if she should go that minute nobody could 
say it, because there was nobody to see 
her. She would catch a big herring all her 
own self, that she would, and make every- 
body stare. 

Weezy’s eyes sparkled like the waves in 


AT THE BEACH 63 

the sunlight, her cheeks glowed like the 
beach pea-blossoms at her feet. 

“I’m going to fish, Harry. You can come 
if you want to,” said she, turning briskly on 
her heel. 

She wore that day a cap and dress of 
navy blue trimmed with bands of gilt braid. 
Harry was dressed in brown, and as he 
bobbed along behind her he resembled a 
dorbug chasing a butterfly. 

“Here’s a hook with a baby crawfish on 
it, Harry. You may have that,” she said, 
with an excited air. 

Then, having selected a second baited hook 
for herself, she skipped along the wharf, 
swinging her line. This was something 
worth while, to fish on her own account, 
without Molly or Kirke at her elbow to cry 
out, — 

“Take care, Weezy, don’t stick the hook 
into you. Take care, Weezy, don’t fall over- 


64 the merry five 

board.” She hated “don’ts.” She was vexed 
now to hear Harry calling out, yards behind 
her, — 

^^Dorit go so fast, Weezy, I’m hawful 
scared !” 

He had reached a broad crack that 
yawned between the planks, and there he 
stood trembling till Weezy danced back to 
him. 

“ O Harry, before I’d be such a baby ! 
Come along. I’ll lead you.” 

But once having seen the waves tossing 
beneath that dreadful crack, Harry could not 
be persuaded to cross it ; and much against 
her will Weezy staid beside him, and fished 
.near the shore. 

“You can hold on to the post, Harry,” 
she said generously. “ I don’t want it. I’m 
not afraid.” 

Harry held on like a barnacle while Weezy 
sat on the edge of the wharf, dangling her 


AT THE BEACH 65 

feet, and moving her line slowly up and down 
in the way she had seen fishermen do. 

The beach was unusually deserted that 
afternoon, because of a railway excursion 
which had attracted many people to the 
neighboring city. Weezy, sitting and gazing 
down into the restless green water, while 
she waited in vain for a nibble, began to 
grow sleepy. Suddenly Harry shouted bois- 
terously, — 

“ I’ve caught a fish, Weezy ! Oh, oh ! I’ve 
caught a fish ! ” 

Weezy was at once broad awake. 

“ Have you, Harry ? Oh, have you ? Let 
me pull him in.” 

She spoke a second too late. Harry had 
given the line a quick jerk toward her, and 
the next thing she knew a wriggling scul- 
pin was flapping its slimy scales right in her 
face. 

“ Ugh ! Ugh ! Take it away, Harry ! ” 


66 


THE MERRY FIVE 


she cried, dropping her own line, and beat- 
ing the fish back with both hands. “ Oh, 
take the horrid ” — 

She never finished the sentence. At the 
last word she lost her balance, and toppled 
headlong into the ocean. 


FISHING FOR WEEZY 


67 


CHAPTER VI 

FISHING FOR WEEZY 

Weezy’s fall had been to Harry like the 
rushing of a meteor across the sky. He had 
seen a swiftly moving mass of gilt and blue 
dart past him and vanish, and the next thing 
he knew he was standing alone upon the 
wharf. 

For a moment he was too dazed to move ; 
then he scampered madly to the shore, trail- 
ing the sculpin after him. 

Weezy’s tumbled ! Weezy’s tumbled into 
the water,” he shrieked, running toward The 
Old and New as fast as he could run. 

The more direct way was by the one hun- 
dred steps which led to the bluff ; but Harry 
never thought of the steps, he toiled around 


68 


THE MERRY FIVE 


by the carriage-road. Twice he tripped, and 
measured his short length in the sand ; but 
fortunately his screams went on ahead of him, 
and reached Mrs. Rowe up-stairs in her room. 

“Are you hurt, Harry.? What is it.?” she 
cried, hastening to the brow of the hill. 

“Come, oh, please come!” sobbed the ter- 
rified little fellow. “ She’s in it. Oh, she’s 
in it!” 

“Who’s in it.? In what, Harry.?” 

“ Weezy, Weezy’s in it — in the ocean ! I 
didn’t push her in ! ’’ 

“ Where, Harry .? Show me.” 

“She tumbled in, she tumbled in her own 
self.” 

Mrs. Rowe had seized the child’s hand, 
and was dragging him back to the beach. 
Behind him still trailed the forgotten scul- 
pin, now dead as a door-nail. 

“Help! help!” shrieked Mrs. Rowe, as she 
pressed on. 


FISHING FOR WEEZY 69 

She was trembling all over. She dared not 
ask another question. A man hauling sea- 
weed from the shore left his horses stand- 
ing in the middle of the highway, and turned 
back with her. 

Ah, the long, long hill ! Should they never, 
never reach the foot of it.? Midway Harry 
tripped again and fell. 

Mrs. Rowe rushed forward alone. She had 
caught a glimpse of a small object floating 
near the beach. It was Weezy’s cap riding 
the waves like a little skiff. Yes, certainly 
it was Weezy’s cap, — the blue cap with gilt 
bands ; but, alas ! alas ! where was the little 
girl who so lately had worn it .? Where, oh, 
where was Weezy herself .? 

Not to pain you needlessly, my little read- 
ers, I will tell you in confidence that Weezy 
was out of the water, safe and well. But 
how could poor Mrs. Rowe know this .? She 
only knew that her darling was not with 


70 THE MERRY FIVE 

the four other children now returning from 
Rocky Cove, and she called distractedly to 
Harry, — 

“Show me just where Weezy fell in.” 

“ Hoff there,” — he pointed at random 
along the pier, — “hoff there, by the post.” 

“ Which post, my boy ? ” cried the ranch- 
man. “There are forty or fifty posts.” 

Harry grew confused ; he could not answer. 

“ ril row out a piece,” said the man, 
hurriedly untying a punt moored to the 
beach. 

“ Why didn’t I call Edward ! Oh, if Ed- 
ward were here ! ” moaned Mrs. Rowe, rush- 
ing upon the wharf, and peering over the 
side. 

“There isn’t any kelp to hinder my seeing 
to the bottom, ma’am,” cried the ranchman 
from the boat below. 

Mrs. Rowe wrung her hands. “ O Weezy, 
Weezy, my dear little daughter ! ” 


FISHING FOR WEEZY 


7 


‘‘If I only knew just where she slipped 
in, I’d dive for her,” called the pitying voice 
from beneath. “ I’d get her for you if I 
could, ma’am.” 

Meanwhile little Miss Weezy, the uncon- 
scious cause of all this anguish and commo- 
tion, lay half asleep upon the neighboring 
bluff behind some tall tufts of alfalfa. 

She had scrambled out of the ocean almost 
as quickly as she had fallen in. Then she 
had started to run home, but, at the top of 
the one hundred steps, had become giddy 
and sunk down to rest. Oh, she was so 
tired, so very, very tired ! And it was so 

nice and warm on the bluff. To go on to 

The Old and New seemed too great an 

effort ; it was easier to lie still in the sun- 
shine. Besides, didn’t she want to dry her 
wet clothes ? What would mamma say to 
her because she had spoiled her pretty 
dress ? By and by she opened her eyes 


72 


THE MERRY FIVE 


and blinked at the wharf below. She saw 
her mother rushing up and down the planks, 
she saw the teamster pushing off from shore. 

V. ’ - . 

“ Wonder what makes i^amma act so 
funny ? Wonder what that man’s doing 
with the boat ” she thought drowsily. But 
she was too languid really to care ; and in 
the act of wondering again closed her eyes. 

She did not see Kirke race to the pier to 
learn what was the matter ; she did not hear 
her mamma cry, — 

“ Oh, Kirke, Kirke, your little sister’s in 
the ocean ! ” 

But when Kirke took in the full meaning 
of his mother’s words and shouted, half be- 
side himself, — 

“O Molly, O Paul, Weezy’s drowning! 
Weezy’s drowning in the ocean ! ” then 
Weezy sprang to her feet wide awake, — 

Kirke Rowe, that’s a fib, that’s a 
dreadful fib ! ” she cried, whirling about, and 


FISHING FOR WEEZY 73 

waving her arms like an excited windmill. 
“ I’m not drowned one bit ! Why, see me, 
here I am, right here ! ” 

I wish you could have heard the shout 
that answered her from the shore. I wish 
you could have seen the sudden rush from the 
wharf, and the dash up those wooden steps ! 

Regardless of salt and sand, Mrs. Rowe 
clasped her dripping child to her breast, and 
then passed her about like some choice relic 
to be ^kissed and adored. 

“You did fall in the hocean though, 
Weezy ; I saw you ! ” cried Harry, evidently 
bent on clearing himself from any suspicion 
of having lied. 

Weezy turned to her mother with a most 
contrite air, — 

“ I didn’t mean to, mamma, truly I didn’t ! 
That wiggly old fish jumped at me and 
knocked me off ! ” 

“ Bless my sweet little girlie ! ” exclaimed 


74 


THE MERRY FIVE 


Mrs. Rowe, taking the child again in her arms, 
“ did you think mamma was going to scold 
you } ” 

Weezy looked very happy. In place of the 
chiding she had expected for losing her cap 
and soiling her gown, she had received hugs 
and kisses. The reason for this strange state 
of things she did not in the least understand ; 
but she knew that she liked it. That she 
had been in danger of drowning never once 
occurred to her. 

“ Walk as fast as you can, darling ” cried 
her mamma, leading her on toward the board- 
ing-house. “ You must have a hot bath and 
a good rubbing at once, or you’ll take cold.’' 

My shoes go quish^ quishy every step I 
take,” complained Weezy, pressing forward 
with lagging feet. 

“ Wait, we’ll carry you, Weezy. Kirke and 
I will make a queen’s chair and carry you,” 
exclaimed Paul. 



W/6 



*' The boys bore the child onward 


Page 75 



FISHING FOR WEEZY 75 

** To be sure we will, little water-soaked 
girl ; why didn’t I think of it ? ” returned 
Kirke, wheeling .about to clasp hands with 
his comrade. 

Mrs. Rowe lifted Weezy into the seat thus 
formed, and the boys bore the child onward. 
The others followed. 

“This doesn’t look much like Weezy’s hair, 
does it, Pauline ? ” said Molly, wringing the 
moist locks that straggled down her little 
sister’s back. “ It looks more like seaweed 
than hair.” 

“ Or more like wet sewing-silk, Molly. Not 
a speck of curl in it.” 

“ You must have gone to the very bottom, 
Weezy,” said Kirke tremulously, as they neared 
The Old and New. “ How on earth did you 
manage to paddle out ? ” 

“ Oh, when I came up, you know, I just 
climbed into the punt.” 

“ The punt ! Why, the punt was ever so 


76 THE MERRY FIVE 

far from the shore, Weezy,” interrupted Molly. 
“I remember ’twas tied by a long rope.” 

“Yes, pretty long,” said Weezy. 

“Then how did you get from the boat to 
the beach, Weezy, so far off } ” persisted Kirke. 

“ Oh, ^/lal was as easy as pie,” said Weezy, 
highly flattered at finding herself the object 
of so much interest. “I just took hold of 
the rope, you see.” 

“Do you mean to say, Weezy, that you 
slid from the bow of the boat into the water, 
and then worked yourself ashore by that 
rope .? ” 

“ Yes ; why not, Kirke ? The rope was right 
there.” 

“She has no idea she did anything remark- 
able,” exclaimed Molly in Kirke’s ear. “Just 
think what might have happened! We ought 
to have kept those children in sight every 
minute.” 

Kirke nodded penitently. 


FISHING FOR WEEZY 


77 


“ That’s so ; but Weezy would have done 
well enough if Harry hadn’t been there. Why 
did we bring him "i ” he whispered. Then 
aloud, ** I can’t imagine now how the little 
witch got to land. It isn’t as if she had 
actually learned to swim.” 

** Oh, I pinched the rope, and kind of jiggled 
along,” explained Weezy coolly; “that wasn’t 
anything.” 

“ No, of course it wasn’t anything,” said 
Paul and Pauline in chorus, clapping their 
hands and laughing. 

But the drenched little girl who had per- 
formed so grandly on the tight rope was 
growing more exhausted now with every step 
she took; and the moment she entered the 
house was glad to be undressed, and put to 
bed like a baby. 

When it was the hour for the train the 
other children left her sleeping, and stole off to 
the station together to meet “Auntie David.” 


78 


THE MERRY FIVE 


Harry trudged behind, hugging Weezy’s 
damp cap, which had been rescued from the 
billows. 

“ Little John Bull has nothing to say,” re- 
marked Kirke to Pauline, who walked beside 
him. I think he misses Weezy.” 

“We all miss her,” responded Pauline, with 
a glance over her shoulder. “ Harry makes 
up the number five ; but he doesn’t take 
Weezy’s place in the least. Without Weezy 
we can’t be * The Merry Five.’ ” 


GOING INTO CAMF 


79 


CHAPTER VII 

GOING INTO CAMP 

The children met Mrs. Davidson at the 
station as they had expected. 

She was a cheery little woman, with a 
delicate pink skin and soft light brown hair, 
so full of waves that Pauline sportively de- 
clared that it made her seasick to look at it. 

Paul and Pauline were very fond of this 
aunt, and found it one of the greatest attrac- 
tions of their camp-life that she usually spent 
her summers with them. 

*‘And the best of it is, Molly, that Auntie 
David loves us just as well as we love her,” 
chatted Pauline, the last morning of her stay 
at Santa Luzia. 

The two girls were pacing arm-in-arm up 


So 


THE MERRY FIVE 


and down the veranda, waiting for Captain 
Bradstreet to drive around with the buck- 
board in which he was to take his family 
to the canyon. 

“ I think your Auntie David is perfectly 
lovely, Polly.” 

“ Do you, really } Oh, Pm so glad ! She 
likes you too, Molly. She hopes you’ll come 
out often to the camp.” 

“ Does she } The dear, how nice of her ! ” 
“Yes ; she says you’re a reliable girl, 
Molly. She never said as much of her own 
niece ! and, — ahem ! — she believes you have 
a good influence over me ! ” 

Pauline drawled out the last sentence with 
a droll pucker of the lips which threw Molly 
into ' spasms of laughter. 

“ The blessed woman ! She didn’t say 
that, Pauline.^ You don’t mean to tell me 
that your Auntie David said that ! ” 

“Yes, those very words, Molly, to papa. 


GOING INTO CAMP 


8l 


And papa, the old darling, whipped out his 
pocket-handkerchief, wiped his eyes, and mut- 
tered, ‘ I’ve noticed that myself.’/’ 

“ Now, Pauline ! ” 

“ Oh ! papa is forever holding you up to 
me for an example, Molly. I wonder I don’t 
hate you.” 

“ The idea of setting me up for an ex- 
ample for anybody, Polly, — me, a girl with 
a red-haired temper.” 

Oh, hush, Molly! Your hair isn’t red!” 

“ It used to be when I was a little midget, 
— a real cayenne-pepper color, and I had a 
peppery temper to match.” 

“ What has become of it, then, Molly .? ” 

“ Of my hair, do you mean } That has 
cooled off, but my temper ” — 

‘‘The stage is ready,” shouted Captain Brad- 
street, reining his prancing horses around 
the corner of The Old and New. “ Call 
your aunt, Pauline.” 


82 


THE MERRY FIVE 


Weezy, still a trifle pale, ran out upon the 
veranda with Harry to witness the departure. 
Paul and Kirke raced up from the beach. 
Mrs. Davidson came down from her room, 
and mounted with Pauline to the back seat 
of the buckboard ; Paul jumped in at the 
front beside his father, quick good-bys were 
exchanged, and away dashed the lively horses 
on the road to the canyon. 

‘‘Thursday, remember we shall expect you 
next Thursday, all three of you,” cried the 
twins, looking backward. 

“All three of you, of course,” echoed their 
father, in tones loud enough to have been 
heard at sea. “We want all of you, espe- 
cially little Miss Weezy.” 

Weezy darted into the house, about the 
happiest little girl in California, shouting, — 
“He did Vite me, mamma! Captain Brad- 
street did ’vite me. He ’vited me officially I 
Oh ! please may I go } ” 


GOING INTO CAMP 


83 

“We’ll see, dear,” answered her mother, 
with a smile that meant “yes”; “we’ll see 
how kind and polite you are to Harry for 
the rest of his stay.” 

Mrs. Rowe had suspected all along that the 
good captain had intended to include Weezy 
in the invitation, but had forgotten to men- 
tion the child by name. Grown people are 
careless sometimes, and forget that little chil- 
dren have been slighted. The children them- 
selves do not forget — ah, no ! 

Harry remained at Santa Luzia one week 
longer, and the members of the family vied 
with one another in making him happy. Mr. 
Rowe bought him a new suit, which de- 
lighted Molly as much as it did Harry ; 
Kirke caught horned toads, and dug up trap- 
door spiders’ nests for the lad’s amusement ; 
while little Miss Weezy loaded him with 
shells and sand-dollars till his new pockets 
were in danger of bursting. By the end of 


84 the merry five 

his fortnight at The Old and New they had 
all grown fond of the frank little fellow, as 
we are apt to grow fond of those whom we 
try to make happy. When he was put on 
the train in care of the conductor, Weezy 
cried, and even Molly looked tearful. 

“ We shall miss the little scamp, Molly,” 
said Kirke, as they walked home from the 
station ; “ but I must confess I’m tired of 
playing watch-dog for him.” 

“Yes, so am I, Kirke,” Molly drew a 
long breath ; “ I’m glad we asked him to 
come, though. Mamma thinks the visit has 
helped him ever so much.” 

“ Does she } Well, I’m glad. But do 
you know, Molly, this morning I was afraid 
it would rain, and the kid would have to 
stay over ? If he had stayed, it would have 
bothered us to-morrow about going to the 
camp.” 

Kirke blew off some of his surplus energy 


GOING INTO CAMP 85 

in a prolonged whistle, the near prospect of 
this much desired outing being very exciting. 

But, sad to relate, when the children went 
down to breakfast the next morning, yester- 
day’s light mist was woven into a thick 
curtain of fog, which shut out the sun, the 
ocean, and even the hedge that bordered the 
lawn. Molly opened the front door, and imme- 
diately closed it with a shiver. 

O Kirke ! out-of-doors it’s like a vapor 
bath. Do you suppose papa can take us to 
the canyon ” 

“ Papa must take us ; papa promised ! ” 
exclaimed Weezy, her eyes watering as if the* 
fog had condensed in them. 

“ But you know it never will do for papa 
to get cold, Weezy,” returned Molly, herself 
ready to cry. “ If it isn’t pleasant to-day, we 
can go when it clears off. Wasn’t it nice in 
Captain Bradstreet to ask us to stay a long 
while ? ” 


86 


THE MERRY FIVE 


“ Oh ! the fog will lift by and by, Molly. 
Here in California mist doesn’t mean rain,” 
said hopeful Kirke. 

For once he was a true prophet. By ten 
o’clock the sun had pierced the clouds ; and 
by eleven the little party set forth in a beach 
wagon, attended by Zip, Donald’s hairless 
Mexican dog. Turning their backs upon the 
blue ocean, they drove across the parched 
mesa, descended a steep hill, and found them- 
selves at the lower end of Sylvan Canyon. 
Here the grass was still tender and juicy, 
watered by a lazy brook flowing between dwarf 
forests of fern. Molly clapped her hands. 

How pretty it is, papa ! so green and so 
tree-y ! ” 

“ The trees are mostly live-oaks and syca- 
mores,” replied her father, who had driven 
over the road the week before with Captain 
Bradstreet. “ Look out for the branches, 
or you’ll lose your caps.” 


GOING INTO CAMP 


87 

“ I’d like to lose mine,” responded Weezy 
rather fretfully. “ It pinches, and it’s all 
crumpled up.” n 

“ Oh ! never mind, little sister,” — Molly 
brushed some grains of sand from the visor ; 
“ the cap is plenty good enough for the 
wood^.” 

Here Zip began to bark and whine around 
the wagon ; and before anybody could tell 
what he wanted he had jumped in, trembling 
like a leaf. 

“ He’s afraid of those dogs,” said Molly, 
the next moment, as a pack of hounds came 
running toward them, followed by a man in 
a rough hunting-suit. 

“No wonder he’s afraid,” exclaimed Kirke, 
rapidly counting. “ One, two, three, — eight 
big creatures ! And the smallest of them 
could eat Zip at a mouthful.” 

“Their master is Kit Carson’s son,” ob- 
served Mr. Rowe, when they had passed the 


88 


THE MERRY FIVE 


Strange procession. ‘‘ He lives in that hut 
behind the willows.” 

Does Cat Carson live with him, papa ? ” 
asked Weezy. 

“No, little daughter; Kit Carson died years 
ago, but he was a famous scout in his day.” 

“ What is a papa ? ” 

“ A scout, Weezy, is a man sent before an 
army to spy out danger.” 

“ Oh ! is that all } ” yawned Weezy, tired of 
the subject. 

“Kit Carson led General Fremont through 
to the Pacific Ocean, didn’t he, papa.?” asked 
Kirke. 

“Yes, my son, when the country was an 
unexplored wilderness.” 

While they talked, the road had been run- 
ning about among the trees in an inquisitive 
way, as if it were hunting for birds’ nests ; 
and now it crossed a small clearing where 
there was a brown cottage. 


GOING INTO CAMP 8g 

** This is Mr. Arnesten’s ranch,” said Mr. 
Rowe, drawing the reins. 

“ I see the camp, I see it ! ” cried Kirke, 
standing up in the wagon. ‘‘ There are three 
— jQSy four — tents, and a shed besides.” 

‘‘ Hop Kee sleeps in the shed,” said Mr. 
Rowe. “Ah, here comes Mr. Arnesten from 
the spring. Good-morning, Mr. - Arnesten. 
Can you bring back my horses from the 
camp and feed them } ” 

The Swede nodded respectfully, and having 
set down his two pails of water, plodded 
along in his clumsy shoes behind the party. 

“ Look, Weezy, they’ve carried the table 
out-of-doors under the live-oaks,” exclaimed 
Molly, holding Zip by the collar. “We shall 
have a regular gypsy dinner.” 

“ I hope dinner is ready,” said Weezy, in 
a flutter of expectancy. “ I’m ’most starved.” 

Molly was gazing about her with an air of 
keen disappointment. 


90 


THE MERRY FIVE 


“ Where can Paul and Pauline be, Kirke ? 
I thought they’d be looking out for us.” 

‘‘And aren’t we looking? and haven’t we 
been looking for an hour ? ” cried two gay 
voices on the right, as the twins sprang 
from behind the tall sycamore that had con- 
cealed them. 

Then they started three cheers for “The 
Merry Five,” in which their young visitors 
most lustily joined. 

“ Ship ahoy ! Cast your anchor ! ” called 
genial Captain Bradstreet, drawn from his 
tent by the joyful tumult. 

Auntie David hurried after to shake hands 
with the newcomers, and bid them welcome 
to the camp. All were talking and laughing 
together, and making so pleasant a din that 
the sleepy old owl at the top of the syca- 
more actually winked at them, and cocked 
his head on one side to listen. 



“The twins sprang from behind the tall sycamore.'' 

Page 90 



THE LITTLE MINERS 


91 


CHAPTER VIII 

THE LITTLE MINERS 

Pauline raised the green mosquito-netting 
that screened the door of the largest tent, 
and courtesied demurely to her visitors. 

‘^‘Will you walk into my parlor.?’” 

‘‘Thank you, Mrs. Fly,” said Molly, “‘Tis 
the prettiest little parlor that ever I did 
spy.’ ” 

The canvas room was indeed very attrac- 
tive, as well as comfortable. It had a board 
floor carpeted with rugs, and it boasted a 
lounge and a table and several rocking- 
chairs. 

“You and Weezy are going to sleep with 
Auntie David and me in the little room 
behind those, Molly,” said Pauline hospi- 


92 


THE MERRY FIVE 


tably, pointing to a pair of gaudy blankets 
curtaining off the farther end of the tent. 
“ Papa bought those blankets of the Navajo 
Indians. Aren’t they gay .? ” 

“Who, Pauline.^ The Indians.^” asked 
Kirke slyly. 

“ I don’t think Indians are gay. I think 
they are sober as a — as a cow!” said out- 
spoken Weezy, who had not understood 
Kirke’s joke in the least. 

“ Pauline was talking about the blankets, 
Ducksie,” said Molly, smoothing her little 
sister’s hair. “ But what makes you think 
that Indians are sober.? You’ve never known 
any Indians.” 

“Oh, Molly Rowe, that isn’t a so story. 
I’ve seen half a hundred Indians, — well, six^ 
anyway.” 

“Where, Weezy.?” 

“Oh, in the streets and ’round; and in the 
curious store.” (Weezy meant curio store.) 


THE LITTLE MINERS 93 

Don’t you remember that curious store 
where mamma bought the funny jugs ? ” 

Oh, yes, I do remember now. There 
were some Indians there with baskets to 
sell ; and the storekeeper wouldn’t buy them. 
Perhaps that made the Indians sober.” 

“ Maybe they were sober because they 
weren’t drunk,” suggested Paul. “Hark! Hop 
Kee is blowing the conch-shell. Dinner is 
ready.” 

The dinner was a charming woodland meal, 
served in the open air, on a long table 
decked with ferns and fragrant bay-leaves. 
Captain Bradstreet sat on a bench on one 
side of the table between Molly and Pauline, 
and Weezy sat on the other side between 
Paul and Kirke. Mr. Rowe and Mrs. David- 
son occupied chairs at opposite ends of the 
table. 

“ Brother insists on giving me a seat with 
a back, Mr. Rowe,” remarked Mrs. Davidson 


94 


THE MERRY FIVE 


with a smile as sunny as the California 
weather. ‘‘ He pets me, but I have known 
how to * rough it ’ as well as anybody.” 

“ I suppose it was a wild country when 
you settled on this coast, Mrs. Davidson.” 

“Indeed it was, Mr. Rowe,” — Mrs. David- 
son laughed softly, — “ you can’t conceive 
what a contrast it seemed to Philadelphia, our 
native city.” 

“ Father moved out here not long after 
gold was first discovered in the State,” said 
Captain Bradstreet, as Hop Kee carried around 
the plates of soup. “ My sister was a little girl 
in pinafores, and I was only two years older.” 

“Our father was a doctor,” continued Mrs. 
Davidson, passing the crackers ; “ his health 
had failed, and he came out here to Tuo- 
lumne county, and built an adobe house for 
us to live in. Do you recollect those heavy 
shutters, Alec, that papa used to bar every 
night } ” 


THE LITTLE MINERS 


95 


Perfectly well, Almeda.” 

O Auntie David ! please tell them how 
you and papa used to mine the gold,” cried 
Pauline. 

‘‘ I am sure we should all like to hear the 
story, Mrs. Davidson,” said Mr. Rowe. 

It’s not much of a story, Mr. Rowe. 
Ours was placer mining. They did not dig 
deep into the earth for gold in those early 
days, you know. They took the gold from 
the surface, and used cradles.” 

“ What did the babies do without them, 
Mrs. Davidson } ” demanded listening Weezy. 

^*Oh, the miners did not use the babies’ 
cradles, little Miss Weezy ; they had cradles 
of their own,” interrupted Captain Bradstreet, 
smiling, as he helped her to fricasseed rabbit. 

‘‘ Each cradle,” went on Mrs. Davidson, 
**had a tin pan in its upper part full of holes 
like a colander. The miners would shovel 
dirt into this pan, and then pour on water, 


96 THE MERRY FIVE 

and rock the cradle. The water would wash 
the dirt through the holes, and leave the bits 
of gold behind in the pan.” 

“Wasn’t the gold good for anything, Mrs. 
Davidson.?” asked Weezy. 

“Yes, dear,” — Mrs. Davidson wiped away 
a smile with her napkin, — “ and the miners 
gathered up all that was left in the pan ; but 
gold was so plenty at that time that they 
did not trouble themselves to save any little 
pieces that might have escaped through the 
holes.” 

“That is funny,” said Weezy. 

“ It was wasteful, wasn’t it, my dear .? 
They don’t do that way nowadays. Well, 
every night there would be heaps of moist 
dirt under the cradles, — ' tailings ’ they called 
it ; and after the miners had gone home 
to their suppers, my brother and I used to 
trudge along with our iron spoons to dig in it.” 

Molly laid down her knife and fork. 


THE LITTLE MINERS 97 

“ How delightful, Mrs. Davidson ! Did you 
find much gold } ” 

** Sometimes we’d find fifty cents’ worth ; 
sometimes we wouldn’t find any.” 

“ But when you did find any, Mrs. David- 
son, what did you do with it ? ” 

*‘We took a fancy to hoarding it in an old 
mustard-box, Molly.” 

** I wonder, Almeda, how many times we 
carried the battered thing to that miserable 
little store at the cross-roads?” interrupted 
Captain Bradstreet. 

“ We, Alec.^ "it was j/ou that carried the 
box. You used to tell me that I wasn’t big 
enough to be trusted with it,” retorted Mrs. 
Davidson playfully. “ Nobody knows how 
I’ve grieved over that.” 

I suspect I was rather lordly about keep- 
ing possession of the gold-dust, Almeda ; but 
you can’t say that I didn’t give you your half 
of the candy it bought.” 


r 


98 THE MERRY FIVE 

“ No ; you gave me my full share, Alec. 
That was not a gr^t deal, though. Candy, 
like everything else, was very dear in those 
days.” 

“ And I’m inclined to believe that that 
wretched storekeeper cheated us, Almeda,” 
said Captain Bradstreet, removing a green 
leaf that had fallen into his coffee-cup. “ But 
you haven’t told the children of the watch 
and the sluices.” 

“ Don’t hurry me, Alec ; I’m coming to 
the sluices. These were long wooden troughs, 
higher at one end than at the other. The 
miners used to throw earth into them, and 
then flood them. The water would wash 
away the earth, and leave the gold in the 
bottom of the sluices.” 

*‘It wouldn’t have stayed there long if I 
had been around,” commented Kirke, sugar- 
ing his strawberries. 

*‘The miners swept up the gold, but they 


THE LITTLE MINERS 99 

didn’t clean out the cracks ” — Mrs. Davidson 
looked mischievously toward Mr. Rowe. I’ve 
read that men are not very fond of cleaning 
out cracks.” 

“What little gnomes we were,” said Cap- 
tain Bradstreet. “ I can seem to see ourselves 
now, Almeda, armed with case-knives, and 
creeping through those damp sluices. Their 
sides must have been nearly as high as our 
heads.” 

“I imagine I was on my hands and knees 
most of the time peeping for the gold.” 

“You could see it more quickly than I 
could, Almeda ; but when it came to scraping 
it out of the corners, I think I could beat you.” 

“ Don’t forget the watch. Auntie David,” 
prompted Pauline. 

“ No, dearie. Are you afraid it will run 
down if I linger so ? Where was I ? ” 

“Grandfather found the mustard-box, you 

r 


know, auntie.” 


100 


THE MERRY FIVE 


“Thank you, Pauline. Yes; your grand- 
father came across our treasure one day when 
he was hunting for mustard to make a paste 
for your grandmother.” 

“ Our mother was sick that spring,” ex- 
plained Captain Bradstreet ; “ and as a nurse 
couldn’t be obtained for love or money, father 
took care of mother himself, and did the cook- 
ing for all of us. We children had enough 
to eat and to wear, but we had very little 
training.” 

“We were as wild as two young quails, 
Alec, I’ve” — 

“ Mustard-box, Auntie David,” interrupted 
Pauline. 

Mrs. Davidson shook her forefinger play- 
fully at her niece. 

“When father saw the yellow dust inside 
the box, he knew at once that it wasn’t mus- 
tard, and he questioned us about it.” 

“ We had rather more gold than usual then. 


THE LITTLE MINERS lOI 

I remember, Almeda,” added Captain Brad- 
street. “ Probably the creek had risen, and 
we hadn’t been able to cross over it to the 
store for several days.” 

“Very likely, Alec. Well, father said to us 
that if he were in our places he wouldn’t 
spend the gold for candy. He asked us if 
we didn’t think it would be nicer to save all 
the gold we could find, and have this made 
into a present for mother.” 

“And after that, Almeda, you and I used 
to scrape the sluices and dig among the tail- 
ings for hours together.” 

“ Did you buy your mamma the present, 
Mrs. Davidson } ” asked Weezy, impatient for 
the end of the story. 

“ Father bought it. He sent East for it 
the next spring,” answered Mrs. Davidson, 
slipping a heavy gold chain from her neck as 
she rose from the table. 


“ It was this watch, Weezy.” 


102 


THE MERRY FIVE 


The children crowded around Mrs. David- 
son as she opened the hunter’s case, and 
pointed out this inscription engraved on the 
inside : — 

TO MOTHER 
From Alec and Almeda, 

Christmas^ 1852. 

‘‘How delighted grandma must have been 
when you and papa gave her this,” said Pauline, 
pressing the watch tenderly to her cheek. 

“ She was delighted indeed. She wore it 
till her last illness, and then put it into my 
hands as her most valued keepsake.” 

“ Dear, pretty little grandma,” sighed Pau- 
line gently. “ Oh, I did love her so ! ” 

“ I know you loved her, dearie, and grandma 
loved you,” said Mrs. Davidson, returning the 
watch to her watch-pocket. 

After Pauline had accompanied the others 
to the parlor tent, Mrs. Davidson slipped her 
arm around Molly’s waist, and whispered, — 


THE LITTLE MINERS 


103 


“ Shall I tell you a great secret, Molly, — 
something that nobody else knows ? On 
Pauline’s eighteenth birthday I’m going to 
give her this watch.” 

“ O Mrs. Davidson, I’m so glad for Pau- 
line ! ” 

Molly was not only glad for Pauline, but 
highly flattered by Auntie David’s confidence 
in herself. When her father came to say 
good-by her face was still beaming. 


104 


THE MERRY FIVE 


CHAPTER IX 

THE BEE-RANCH 

One morning Weezy ran over to Mr. Arnes- 
ten’s to play with homely little Olga and 
some fluffy young chickens ; and the other 
children set off for Captain Bradstreet’s bee- 
ranch, three miles away. 

“You see, it isn’t a road at all, Molly,” 
said Pauline, as they followed the path lead- 
ing from the camp; “it is only the bottom 
of a brook.” 

Molly turned up the sole of her left shoe, 
and carefully examined it, to Pauline’s great 
amusement. 

“ Oh, there’s no danger of wet feet. Miss 
Prudence. The path is dry all summer ; but 
in the winter rains the floods come tearing 


THE BEE-RANCH 105 

down from the upper canyon where we are 
going.” 

‘‘Then how do the people get out of the 
canyon, Pauline ” 

“ There aren’t any people, Molly, besides 
the Wassons. Mr. and Mrs. Wasson don’t 
get out ; they stay in.” 

“ All winter } Why, Polly Bradstreet, I 
should think they’d be lonesome enough to 
die.” 

“ Oh, the rains don’t last very long at a 
time, Molly,” said Paul, helping her over a 
fallen log ; “ and when the brook isn’t too 
high Mr. Wasson can drive along the bed of 
it with Punch and Judy.” 

“Those mules are the knowingest little ani- 
mals,” put in Pauline enthusiastically. “Mr. 
Wasson can do anything with them. Once 
he drove them out to Santa Luzia with a 
load of honey, when the water was up to 
their knees a part of the way.” 


io6 


THE MERRY FIVE 


‘‘What makes the Wassons stay in the 
canyon in the rainy season, Pauline ? ” 

“To take care of the bees.” 

“To take care of the bees, Pauline.^ What 
do they do to them ? You talk as if bees 
had to be fed and watered like so many 
cows.” 

“Not like cows exactly, Molly; but they 
do have to be fed and watered. Mr. Was- 
son sows alfalfa for them to make honey 
from when the wild sage blossoms are gone. 
There’s Mr. Wasson now, in front of the 
house.” 

They were approaching a small cottage 
which stood alone on a ranch. Before the 
house were rows of square redwood boxes, 
and Mr. Wasson was bending over one of 
these boxes. He was thin and dark, and had 
long gray hair, and heavy, arched eyebrows, 
which reminded Molly of little birch canoes 
turned upside down. 


THE BEE-RANCH 10 / 

“ Good-morning, Mr. Wasson,” said Pauline, 
walking up to him. 

The man straightened himself with a quick 
jerk. 

Oh ! it’s the cap’n’s little girl, is it ? 
Plagued if you didn’t ’most scare me out of 
a year’s growth.” 

Pauline and the others laughed in concert, 
for Mr. Wasson was exceedingly tall. 

“This is Molly Rowe,” said Pauline affa- 
bly ; “ and this is her brother Kirke. They’re 
visiting at our camp, and Paul and I have 
brought them to see the ranch.” 

“ Always pleased to have folks come, par- 
ticularly young folks. — Mother,” Mr. Wasson 
glanced over his shoulder and shouted, — 
“ Hello, mother, here’s company ! ” 

“ That’s Mr. Wasson’s wife ; he always 
calls her mother,” whispered Paul to Kirke, 
as a woman appeared at the door of the 
house and hastily retreated. 


io8 


THE MERRY FIVE 


Mr. Wasson looked at his guests with a 
comical grin. 

“ Mother likes to fix herself up before 
strangers come in. Women are made that 
way.” 

“ Oh ! we don’t want to go into the house 
yet, Mr. Wasson,” interposed Molly with 
ready tact. “We want to see what you are 
doing to the hives.” 

“ I’m lifting the covers, miss.” 

“To give the bees an airing, Mr. Wasson.?” 

“Yes, miss; I’m drying off the hives. 
We’ve had drenching fogs lately, and I’m 
afraid my bees will catch cold.” 

Molly looked surprised. Kirke, less on his 
good behavior, laughed outright. 

“ Who ever heard of a bee with a cold .? ” 
he said. “Do they sneeze, I wonder? You 
must be joking, Mr. Wasson.” 

“ Not at all. I’ve l-ost lots of bees with 
chills. These covers I put on at night to 




‘Aren’t you afraid of being stung?” 


Page 109 



THE BEE-RANCH 


109 


keep out the dampness, but I take ’em off 
when the sun shines.” 

Now that the covers had been removed, 
the children could see that the top of each 
hive was made of wooden slats. Mr. Wasson 
pried up one of these slats to show the well- 
filled honeycomb attached to it. 

“Tut, tut! there’s a little mould here,” 
he said, passing his finger along the cells 
without heeding the bees flying about 
them. 

Molly drew back. 

“ Aren’t you afraid of being stung, Mr. 
Wasson ? ” 

“ Afraid, miss ? Oh, no I my bees and I 
are good friends.” 

“ Weren’t you ever stung, Mr. Wasson ? ” 
asked Kirke uneasily, as a bee whizzed about 
his ear. 

“ Wasn’t I ever stung, sir ? ” — Mr. Was- 
son put back the comb with an odd grimace, 


no 


THE MERRY FIVE 


— ‘‘ well, young man, accidents will hap- 
pen. There are five hundred of these stands, 
and I go over them three times every 
spring.” 

** Go over them, Mr. Wasson } ” repeated 
Molly. 

‘‘ Yes, miss ; I clean them, and make sure 
that each hive has a queen. It’s no fool of 
a job ! The year I was sick mother tended 
to them, and she hasn’t had any hands 
since.” 

Molly opened her eyes, and glanced at 
Pauline. 

‘‘No hands to speak of, I mean, miss. 
She strained ’em, I tell her, when she 
strained the honey.” 

Mr. Wasson smiled broadly at his own 
jest. His smile was the only broad thing 
about him. 

“Oh, that was too bad, Mr. Wasson,*^ said 
Molly, smiling from sympathy. 


THE BEE-RANCH 


III 


“ Mother’s come to the door with her 
starched gown on,” he continued facetiously. 

She expects you to go in. I always do as 
mother says. She’s brigadier-general, and I’m 
only a private.” 

“ Isn’t he odd, Molly ? ” whispered Pauline 
as they followed Mr. Wasson along the beaten 
path. 

Molly squeezed Pauline’s hand, and Paul 
and Kirke grinned. 

They found Mrs. Wasson as short and 
plump as her husband was tall and spare. 
Her one straight line was her mouth, enclosed 
between two curving wrinkles like a dash in 
parentheses. 

Having given the children all the chairs 
the house afforded, she seated herself upon 
the bed. Mr. Wasson sat upon the stove, 
which, fortunately for him, had no fire. 

But the next moment he sprang up to 
bring his visitors water from the Mexican 


1 12 


THE MERRY FIVE 


olla swinging upon the porch ; and this re- 
minded Mrs. Wasson that they might be 
hungry, and she bustled to the “cooler,” or 
“ window cupboard,” at the north for a loaf 
of rye bread and a plate of honey. 

Molly thought she had never eaten any- 
thing nicer than those slices of bread spread 
with ranch butter and amber honey ; but 
when Kirke looked longingly at a third 
slice, her sense of politeness took alarm, and 
she asked Pauline in a whisper if they ought 
not to go. 

Pauline arose quickly. 

“ We’ve had a splendid time, Mrs. Wasson. 
Thank you ever so much for the lunch- 
eon.” 

“We always have a splendid time here,” 
added Paul, stepping over the threshold. 
“ What a frolic we had last summer with 
Medor ! Where is that dog, Mrs. Wasson } 
I haven’t seen him to-day.” 


THE BEE-RANCH 


II3 

*‘0 Master Paul! haven’t you heard? Our 
M^dor is dead ! ” Mrs. Wasson brushed away 
a tear with her purple calico sleeve. “ Would 
you like to visit his grave? It’s to the left, 
under the weeping willow.” 

“ Indeed we should I ” cried the twins in 
a breath ; “ M^dor was a dear old dog 1 ” 

“There never was a better,” responded 
Mr. Wasson, leading the way. “ He came to 
us a little puppy. We lived in ’Frisco then, 
on Telegraph Hill, and we’ve owned him ever 
since.” 

“Father says if he could spell ‘able’ he’d 
hire a poet to write Medor’s epitaph,” panted 
Mrs. Wasson, trying to keep up with the 
rest. 

“ I bought the willow for him at ‘ The 
Forestry,’” said Mr. Wasson, stopping beside 
a small square yard enclosed by a picket 
fence. And he pointed to a mound within, on 
which was marked in cobble-stones the name 


THE MERRY FIVE 


II4 

MMor. A board served as headstone, and 
on this in black letters was painted : — 
“mJi:dor, our dog, 

Died April 20th, 

Aged 12 Years.” 

“ If ever a dog deserved an epitaph that dog 
did,” said Mr. Wasson seriously. “Mother 
wanted me to get one up myself ; but, land ! 
I couldn’t. I can manage bees better than I 
can manage poetry.” 

The boys retired early that night in the 
tent that they shared with Captain Bradstreet. 
A little later, as Molly and Pauline were 
undressing in the end of the parlor tent shut 
off by the Indian blankets, Molly suddenly 
exclaimed, — 

“O Polly, I’ve thought of something! 
Let’s write an epitaph for Medor. Don’t 
you believe it would please the Wassons .!*” 

“ Of course it would, Molly. It would tickle 


them to death.” 


THE BEE-RANCH II5 

** Comfort them, you should say, Polly. 
Epitaphs don’t tickle.” 

“ That depends upon the epitaph, doesn’t 
it .? ” asked Pauline, yawning. “ How wide 
open your eyes are, Molly Rowe ! I’m going 
to tuck you into bed this minute.” 

Long after Pauline had floated into dream- 
land, Molly lay awake beside her little sister, 
listening to the voices of the night in the 
leafy canyon. She recognized the hooting of 
an owl ; but what was that other sound, some- 
thing like a laugh and a cough and a cry all 
in one ? It made her flesh creep. She was 
thankful when Mrs. Davidson appeared with 
a lighted candle. 

** O Mrs. Davidson ! what is that dreadful 
noise ” she whispered. 

“ That noise, Molly ? Oh, that is only the 
barking of the coyotes.” 

“Oh! do you suppose they’ll get in, Mrs. 


Davidson ” 


. THE MERRY FIVE 


ll6 

‘‘ In here ? Why, my dear child, you couldn’t 
drive them in. They’re the greatest cowards 
in the world.” 

But they act so mad^ Mrs. Davidson.” 

They have a sad habit of prowling around 
Mr. Arnesten’s chicken-yard, Molly, but they 
won’t harm us. Don’t mind their howling. 
Try to go to sleep.” 


F/V£ YOUNG POETS 


II7 


CHAPTER X 

FIVE YOUNG POETS 

Yesterday, to-day, and to-morrow were 
very much alike in the canyon, and all alike 
delightful to The Merry Five. The mornings 
being usually cool, breakfast was served in 
the dining-tent behind the parlor. After 
breakfast the boys often went with Captain 
Bradstreet to shoot “ cotton-tail ” rabbits for 
dinner. Sometimes the girls followed a part 
of the way in search of wild-flowers for their 
herbariums. 

“ I wonder if the chocolate lilies are gone by, 
Pauline } ” said Molly on one of these quests. 

Yes, indeed, Molly ; ages ago. I don’t 
think they’re very pretty, do you } ” 

“ No, not pretty exactly ; but they look so — 


Il8 THE MERRY FIVE 

SO sort of sensible, Pauline. They stand up 
prim and plain like little Quakers.” 

‘‘Their clothes won’t show dirt, that’s one 
good thing,” responded Pauline, scowling at 
a mud-stain on her skirt. “ Why is it, Molly, 
that dirt never sticks to you 'I ” 

“ O Pauline ! I think it does stick to me ; 
but it sticks to Weezy a good deal worse. Did 
you ever see such a child for getting soiled 
and torn } ” 

Little Miss Weezy had remained behind at 
the camp to nurse a newly hatched chicken 
presented her by Mr. Arnesten. 

“What was that, Molly, about Weezy’s 
losing her stocking.?” 

“ Oh, we were all down on the beach, and 
nothing would do but Weezy and Harry must 
go in wading. I put Harry’s shoes and stock- 
ings high and dry on the shore, and told 
Weezy to put hers there too. I suppose she 
gave them a toss, and they didn’t go far 


FIVE YOUNG POETS 


II9 

enough. Anyway, when she came out of the 
water, one stocking had been washed out to sea.” 

How did the child get home, Molly ? ” 

“ How did Hi-diddle-dumpling-my-son-John 
go to bed, Polly ? ” 

“ ‘ One stocking off and one stocking on,’ ” 
quoted Pauline gayly. And you mean to 
say the poor little image had to skip away 
back to The Old and New half-dressed like 
that, Molly.?” 

“ Yes ; her gown up to her knees too ! 
It was that navy blue with gilt braid. It 
shrunk after she fell into the ocean, and it 
can’t be let down.” 

“ Were there many people around, Molly ? ” 

“ Many .? The beach was lined with ‘ tourers,’ 
as Weezy calls them ; and everybody saw that 
little scapegrace running by on one white leg 
and one black leg. Oh, it was killing!"' 

“ Did Weezy care .? ” asked Pauline, laugh- 
ing till the tears came. 


120 


THE MERRY FIVE 


“Yes, Polly; Pm happy to say that she 
did — for about five minutes.” 

“I wonder what her ladyship is up to now,” 
said Pauline, striking into the homeward path, 

“ Oh, I suppose she and Olga are still 
petting that sick chicken.” 

Molly had guessed aright. She and Pau- 
line presently surprised the two children 
playing hospital, in their favorite retreat under 
a live-oak. Dressed as a nurse, with a white 
kerchief pinned across her shoulders, Olga 
was holding the invalid chicken tenderly in 
her lap, while Weezy, also in a white ker- 
chief, was trying to tempt its appetite with 
a preparation of Mellin’s Food. 

“ It’ll only eat the leastest bit of a mite, 
Molly,” said Weezy in a hopeless voice; “and 
it won’t open its little eyes.” 

“ That must be because it is weak. Nurse,” 
said Molly, joining in the play. “ I think it 
needs a tonic.” 


F/V£ YOUNG POETS 


I2I 


“ Some wine might do it good, Nurse,’’ 
added Pauline. 

“ Oh, yes ; some wine. That’s what it is 
crying for, maybe,” returned Weezy eagerly. 
‘‘ Please give me four teaspoonfuls for him, 
Pauline.” 

“I’m sorry to disappoint you. Nurse,” an- 
swered Pauline dryly ; “ but the fact is we 
don’t keep wine on tap at this inn. Wouldn’t 
pepper-tea do as well } ” 

Weezy shook her head doubtfully. 

“ Won’t pepper-tea tickle its poor little 
throat, Pauline, and make it cough ? ” 

•“Not if the tea is well taken before shaken. 
Nurse,” replied Pauline solemnly. 

“Please put lots of sugar in, then,” said 
Weezy. 

The pepper-tea proved so fine a remedy, 
that on the arrival of the boys, half an hour 
later, Weezy could assure them that her pa- 
tient had begun to “take notice.” 


122 


THE MERRY FIVE 


After dinner The Merry Five adjourned to 
the parlor tent to finish Medor’s epitaph. 
Each one wrote something, though Weezy’s 
share was only part of a line. 

“ However, there’s enough of it, such as it 
is, and it’s good enough, what there is of it,” 
said Paul, repeating a worn-out joke. 

When the four stanzas were completed, 
Paul copied them neatly with his small type- 
writer, and passed them to Molly to be ad- 
mired. 

‘‘You’ve printed the epitaph beautifully, 
Paul — on cardboard too. Oh, I do hope 
the Wassons won’t call it doggerel ! ” 

“ If it isn’t doggerel, it’s real doggy^ put 
in Kirke, and was promptly scolded for his 
levity. 

“ We ought to take this out to the bee- 
ranch by to-morrow, Pauline,” said Molly, 
reading the composition over again after 
peace had been restored. “You know Kirke 


FIFE YOUNG POETS 


123 


and Weezy and I must go back to Santa 
Luzia Saturday.” 

“I wish I didn’t know it, Molly.” 

*‘And in two weeks more we shall all be 
at home agaiti, Pauline. I wish we could 
stay away till Thanksgiving.” 

“Only I wouldn’t miss of being at Silver 
Gate City on Admission , Day,” cried Paul, 
covering his type-writer. “ The streets will 
be trimmed, and there’ll be arches, and bands 
of music, and a procession long enough to 
reach around a dozen squares and tie.” 

“I think the street masquerade that comes 
off the night before Admission Day is the 
better fun,” returned Pauline. “ I like dressing 
up like somebody else, and wearing a mask.” 

“ But I always know you, whatever you 
put on, my lady. You never can cheat me,” 
replied Paul. 

“ Nor you me, Twinny dear,” retorted 
Pauline. 


124 


THE MERRY FIVE 


When Pauline wished to tease her brother 
she often called him “Twinny.” 

“ We’ll see if I can’t cheat you this year, 
though, little sister,” rejoined Paul, with a 
sly wink at dCirke. 

For as it happened the boys had already 
decided on their costumes for the masquer- 
ade, and that very morning they had made 
Auntie David promise to help in getting 
these up. Mr. Davidson would be detained 
some weeks longer in the East, and Mrs. 
Davidson was to go to^ Silver Gate City with 
the Bradstreets when they broke camp. 

“ It’s always nice to have Auntie David 
with us,” remarked Pauline the next day as 
The Merry Five were walking to the bee- 
ranch; “but this fall it will be nicer than 
usual, because Mrs. Cannon isn’t well enough 
yet to come back to work, and Auntie 
David can teach the new housekeeper.” 

Kirke’s brown eyes twinkled. 


F/V£ LITTLE POETS 12 $ 

‘‘ Mrs. Cannon went off, did she, Pauline ? 
That’s the way with cannons ; — they’re al- 
ways going off.” 

“ I hope our epitaph will go off well,” 
returned Pauline, as they drew near the bee- 
hives where Mr. Wasson was at work. 

‘‘Remember, Polly, you are the one to 
speak about it,” whispered Molly diffidently. 
“You and Paul know the Wassons.” 

Mr. Wasson greeted them all cordially ; and 
as soon as Mrs. Wasson had changed her 
dress she greeted them cordially too, and 
treated them to fresh buttermilk and ginger- 
bread. This light repast ended, Pauline 
moved restlessly in her chair, uncertain how 
to begin her little speech. But little Miss 
Weezy presently relieved her embarrassment 
by saying, — 

“We’ve brought you some beautiful poe- 
try, Mr. Wasson ; some we made all by our- 


selves.’* 


126 


THE MERRY FIVE 


Some poetry, little girl ? ” 

Mr. Wasson arched his eyebrows till they 
looked more like bows than like overturned 
canoes. 

“Yes; it’s an epithety Mr. Wasson. We’ve 
written a lovely epithet for your dog.” 

With a mirthful glance toward Molly, Pau- 
line hastened to explain ; and as soon as 
everybody was duly serious she read aloud 
the stanzas. At the beginning of the second 
one, Weezy could not refrain from exclaim- 
ing, “I wrote that, I wrote, ‘he carried the 
basket;’” but Pauline finished the epitaph 
without further interruption. 

“It’s elegant — just like a book,” cried 
Mrs. Wasson, drying her eyes. “You were 
real kind to write it.” 

“You were sOy' echoed Mr. Wasson with 
a gratified smile at the five young poets. 
“Will you see me nail it up.?” 

“ Yes, indeed, Mr. Wasson,” answered 


FIVE LITTLE POETS 


127 


Weezy. And the children followed him to 
MMor’s grave, and waited with Mrs. Was- 
son while the cardboard was being fastened 
to the wooden headstone. 

Here is a copy of the epitaph : — 

TRIBUTE TO A DUMB FRIEND. 

The noble dog MMor, whose death we deplore, 

Had lived and was famous for twelve years or more; 

Was raised up in ’Frisco, on Telegraph Hill, 

Where MMor, the spaniel, is spoken of still. 

His eyes gleamed with knowledge; was true to the core, 
He carried the basket to market or store; 

The crack of the shotgun he loved to obey. 

And thousands of ducks he brought home in his day. 

At the bee-ranch in the canyon where romancers jog. 
Poor Medor lies buried, that faithful old dog; 

Around him wild-flowers will bloom in the spring. 

And sweet trilling warblers forever will sing. 


128 


THE MERRY FIVE 


CHAPTER XI 

MOLLY A HEROINE 

On the following Saturday The Merry Five 
separated. |^Molly, Kirke, and Weezy went 
back to Santa Luzia for a fortnight, and 
then the Rowes and the Bradstreets re- 
turned together to Silver Gate City. 

‘‘It seems nice to be at home again after 
all, mamma,” said Molly a few mornings 
after this. “ I’ve missed my wheel dread- 
fully. Have you any errands to-day ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, Molly. Donald needs the frocks 
Mrs. Carillo has been making for him. I 
wish you’d ride over to her house and get 
them.” 

“ May I ask Polly to go along, mamma ? ” 

“If you like. But I can’t have any ‘scorch- 


MOLLY A HEROINE 


129 


ing/ dear ; and remember that you two girls 
are not to race.” 

We won’t race, mamma. But oh ! racing 
is such fun ! you don’t know.” 

As Molly guided her bicycle down the 
steps of the veranda, there was a shadow on 
her brow. She could ride very well, even 
better than Pauline. Why need her mamma 
be so cautious about scorching ” ? 

Mrs. Rowe must have observed the shadow ; 
for she followed Molly out upon the veranda, 
adding tenderly, — 

‘‘I know this, dearie, that your papa and I 
cannot afford to have you reckless. You are 
our mainstay, Molly.” 

“Your mainstay, mamma Am I.?” 

“ Indeed you are ; and more than ever since 
papa’s illness.” 

“Thank you, mamma.” Molly looked ra- 
diant. “ I’ll try never to be reckless any 


more. 


130 


THE MERRY FIVE 


She was extremely in earnest. If anybody 
had told her then that in another hour she 
would be doing a frightfully daring thing she 
would not have believed it. And if anybody 
had told Mrs. Rowe that she herself would 
not blame Molly for the disobedience, Mrs. 
Rowe would not have believed that either. 

Can you ride up to Mrs. Carillo’s with 
me, Polly } ” Mrs. Rowe heard Molly call 
under the window of Pauline’s room across 
the way. 

In two seconds, Molly.” And Pauline 
hastened out, trundling her safety before her. 

Mrs. Rowe watched the two girls spinning 
down the street on their wheels till they 
looked in the distance like two enormous 
spiders revolving on their own webs. Then 
calling Zip, who had begged to follow them, 
she went into the house. 

All the way to the little brown cottage by 
the canyon, Molly and Pauline were talking 


MOLLY A HEROINE 131 

of the street masquerade now near at hand, 
and discussing what they should wear. 

“ I’ve a great mind to dress in light blue,” 
said Molly; “mask, gown, stockings, and all.” 

“I wouldn’t, Molly. You always wear blue 
or lavender or something of that kind. People 
would guess you in a minute. Why don’t 
you wear yellow } ” 

“Yellow — with my red hair, Pauline!” 

“Molly Rowe, your hair isn’t red, and you 
know it I It is the most heavenly auburn I ” 

“Well, then, play it’s auburn. Yellow won’t 
go with auburn either.” 

Pauline knitted her black eyebrows. 

“I have it, Molly. Pug up your tawny 
mane, and cover it with a Chinese handker- 
chief, or a turban. Oh, I’ll manage it.” 

“ You bright creature 1 ” 

“You must wear a yellow mask, Molly, 
and a yellow dress with broad black stripes, 
and ” — 


132 


THE MERRY FIVE 


“And you must blossom out in lilac, Pau- 
line, or the babiest kind of baby blue.” 

“ I might be a shepherdess, Molly, and 
you could be a Spanish girl.” 

“ Only you and I are to walk together,” 
mused Molly. “ Do you think it seems quite 
the thing for a Spanish girl to walk arm-in- 
arm with a shepherdess } ” 

“ Why not, you stuck-up senorita } ” 

“ We might. There, Pauline, let’s do this ! 
Let’s you and me be the United States and 
Mexico.” 

“ Or the United States and California, 
Molly. Wouldn’t you rather be California ^ 
You’d be more sort of patriotic.” 

“Yes; I’d rather be California than any 
State — excepting Massachusetts,” responded 
Molly loyally. “And you can be the God- 
dess of Liberty trailing around in the Ameri- 
can flag.” 

“ That’s capital, Molly ! I don’t believe 


MOLLY A HEROINE 133 

the boys would ever suspect us of attempting 
anything so fine.” 

‘‘Only we must take care not to mention 
flags, or bunting, or stars or stripes, when the 
boys are around.” 

“Yes, indeed ; they’ll be on the watch for 
the least hint,” said Pauline, as she and Molly 
rode up to Mrs. Carillo’s cottage. 

“You needn’t caution me^ Molly. Hoaxing 
Kirke and Paul will make half the fun of the 
masquerade.” 

“But they’re so awfully quick-witted, Polly, 
I’m afraid we can’t cheat them. Have you 
any notion how they will be dressed them- 
selves 

“ I caught Paul with a comic mask this 
morning before he had time to hide it. I 
fancy Auntie David is making a clown of 
him ; but she won’t tell.” 

“ And your Auntie David is getting up 
Kirke’s costume too. Isn’t it sweet of her } ” 


134 


THE MERRY FIVE 


Oh, she likes to do such things, Molly.” 

Kirke will want to be something absurd, 
— an Indian boy, maybe. I saw him sneak in 
at your side-door yesterday noon with tog- 
gery rolled up in a blanket.” 

“ Did you, Molly } That accounts for the 
tittering in Paul’s room about that time.” 

“ Probably the boys were having a dress- 
rehearsal,” returned Molly, laughing; and her 
face was still in a pucker when Manuel Carillo 
opened the door. 

‘‘You are just starting out on your news- 
paper route, aren’t you, Manuel } ” she said, 
observing that he had his leather bag slung 
across his shoulder. “ Is your mother at 
home .? ” 

“Yes; she’s sewing on her new machine,” 
replied Manuel, laughing in his light-hearted 
Spanish way. 

In greeting the girls Mrs. Carillo laughed 
too, and proudly exhibited the new sewing- 


MOLLY A HEROINE 1 35 

machine which Kirke, with his own earn- 
ings, had helped her to purchase. 

“ You do beautiful work with it, Mrs. 
Carillo,” said Molly politely. “Are Donald’s 
frocks finished } ” 

Mrs. Carillo replied in broken English that 
the frocks were finished, and would the seno- 
rita pardon her for neglecting to send them 
home } Then, with profuse apologies, she 
rolled the garments into a neat parcel, and 
instructed Manuel to tie this under the seat 
of Molly’s bicycle. 

“Don’t you think Manuel has lovely man- 
ners, Molly said Pauline as she and Molly 
whizzed away from the cottage. 

“Lovely, yes. Weezy says she likes Man- 
uel- because he behaves so well.” 

“The little witch!” Pauline rode on sev- 
eral blocks without speaking, and then added, 
“ What will Weezy wear at the street masquer- 


ade?” 


136 THE MERRY FIVE 

The two girls were coursing side by side 
along Alder Street, and were about to cross 
Summit Avenue over the track of the elec- 
tric railway. Summit Avenue led down from 
The Heights, and was at this point very 
steep. 

*‘I don’t know what she’ll wear, but she 
has been teasing for two masks, and ” — 

“ Mercy, Molly ! ” interrupted Pauline in 
dismay, “see Essie Hobbs ! There, there ! 
sitting right between the rails!” 

“Forevermore I and the car coming I” gasped 
Molly, with a horrified glance up the hill. 
“ Run, Essie, run ! ” 

Too startled by the unexpected cry to 
heed the rumbling of the motor, Essie looked 
around blinking. 

“ Run, Essie ; do you hear ? ” shouted Pau- 
line frantically. “ Run as fast as you can ! ” 

Essie shook her stubborn little head. The 
sun in her eyes blinded her to the approach- 



" ‘ Stop the car ! ’ 


screamed Mcllie,” 


Page 137 




MOLLY A HEROINE 1 3 / 

ing danger, and she did not choose to run 
merely because she had been told to do so. 

“ Stop the car ! stop the car ! ” screamed 
Molly, springing from her safety, and waving 
her arms wildly toward the motor-man. 

The man began to work the brake. Till 
that moment he had not observed that little 
brown Essie was anything more than a patch 
of dust in the road. 

“ Stop the car ! Oh ! why don’t you stop 
the car } ” shrieked Pauline, as it still plunged 
on. 

‘‘ He can’t stop it ! He can’t stop it in 
time ! ” wailed Molly, darting forward. 

What happened next she never afterward 
could recall ; but somehow, in the twinkling 
of an eye, she had dashed in front of the 
bounding motor ; she had caught dazed little 
Essie about the waist, and was dragging her 
off the track. Nearer and nearer down the 
abrupt descent thundered the terrible car. 


138 THE MERRY FIVE 

Molly had scarcely time to leap with her liv- 
ing burden across the rail before the heavy 
wheels lumbered over the very spot where 
Essie had been seated. 

“O Molly, Molly! how dared you ” shud- 
dered Pauline, as the car came to a stand- 
still a few feet farther on. “ I thought 
you’d be crushed to pieces I ” 

Molly tried to reply, but seized with sud- 
den faintness sank down in the road with 
her feet in the gutter. Pauline ran to the 
nearest house for a glass of water. When 
she returned with it she saw the motor-man 
bending over Molly, speaking vehemently. 

“ I believe you’re the bravest girl in this 
city,” he was saying in a tremulous voice. 
“ If it hadn’t been for you I should have 
run over that baby. You’ve done me a good 
turn that I sha’n’t forget in a hurry.” 

“ Oh, I — I had to do it,” gasped Molly 
through her chattering teeth. “I — I wasn’t 


MOLLY A HEROINE 


139 


brave. I did it — just — because I couldn’t 
help it.” 

“You’re a heroine, Molly, an out-and-out 
heroine,” cried admiring Pauline, holding the 
glass to Molly’s lips. 

After the motorman had again mounted his 
platform, and the crowd gathered about the 
corner had dispersed, Pauline picked up 
Molly’s overturned bicycle. Donald’s frocks, 
broken from their paper wrapping, lay crushed 
in the mud. 

“ I’ll carry ’em ’ome for you, Molly,” said 
Harry, who had come in quest of his runaway 
sister; “I’ll ’old ’em in both harms.” 

And the little English children skipped 
away, serenely unconscious that Essie had 
escaped a great peril. 

But when their Aunt Ruth had heard the 
adventure, she ran over to Mr. Rowe’s house 
with streaming eyes to thank Molly for her 
noble act. 


140 THE MERRY FIVE 

“I shall be grateful to you, Miss Molly, 
while the Lord lets me draw breath,” she 
cried brokenly. You’ve snatched my little 
Hessie back from the grave.” 

“Molly risked her own life for the child’s. 
Miss Hobbs,” said Mr. Rowe, stroking Molly’s 
cheek. 

His hand shook like an aspen leaf. The 
recent exciting incident had unbraced his 
nerves, and he was days in rallying from it. 

“ It is too bad about those frocks, mamma,” 
said Molly that night before going to bed. 
“ The street had just been sprinkled. They’ll 
all have to be washed.” 

“ What of that, Molly ? Soiled frocks seem 
of very little consequence to me to-night.” 

As Mrs. Rowe spoke she knelt beside 
Molly’s bed, and gave her a fond kiss. 

“ Only the clothes were new, mamma.” 

“Who cares for new clothes compared to 
human lives, my Molly ? ” Mrs. Rowe’s voice 


MOLLY A HEROINE 


I4I 

was unsteady. ‘^I thank the good Father on 
my knees for letting you save Essie, and for 
sparing our dear daughter to her father and 
me. 

And she kissed Molly again and again. 


142 


THE MERRY FIVE 


CHAPTER XII 

THE STREET MASQUERADE 

It was the evening before Admission Day. 
Silver Gate City wore its gala dress in honor 
of the approaching 9th of September, the 
anniversary of the birth of the State of Cali- 
fornia. 

Arches draped with flags spanned the street 
corners ; streamers of red, orange, and green 
floated from trolley and telegraph wires ; palm- 
branches and festoons of bunting decked the 
fronts of houses and shops. To-morrow the 
city was to be serious and grand with orations 
and bands of music, but to-night it was on 
tiptoe for a frolic. 

Directly after tea Molly and Pauline retired 
to Molly’s room to prepare for the street mas- 


THE STREET MASQUERADE 1 43 

querade. Kirke and Paul were arraying them- 
selves in Paul’s room across the way, roaring 
and clapping at intervals with such gusto that 
Captain Bradstreet, in the library beneath, 
chuckled from sympathy. 

The captain was to pose at the festival as 
General Washington, and had already donned 
a long military coat, black stockings, and 
knee-breeches of velvet. 

“ Unless our ears deceive us, Patsy, those 
young people are in pretty fair spirits,” he 
said, with a courtly bow to Mrs. Davidson, 
who stood at his elbow dressed like Martha 
Washington. 

She wore an old-fashioned brocade gown, 
with her powdered hair rolled back from her 
forehead over a cushion. 

“ The same thought has occurred to my- 
self, General,” she replied archly, as she ar- 
ranged the white ruffles at his wrists. “They 
are bent on mystifying their sisters to-night, 


144 


THE MERRY FIVE 


and are highly pleased with the costumes 
selected.” 

“That is evident, madam. Are you the 
only one in the secret } ” 

“The only one besides Mrs. Rowe. The 
boys want to mingle in the crowd before giv- 
ing you an opportunity to recognize them. 
Shall we go on ” 

The false father of his ' country bowed as- 
sent, and reached for his three-cornered hat. 

“ Since it is your will, madam, we will de- 
part forthwith.” 

The Revolutionary pair had secured reserved 
seats in a sun parlor overlooking the plaza, 
and Mr. and Mrs. Rowe occupied chairs near 
them. Mrs. Rowe wore a black silk dress, 
and had thrown over her head a lace mantilla. 
Mr. Rowe sported a Spanish hat and cloak. 

“ Papa plays he’s a Spanish man. Auntie 
David, so he won’t get cold,” explained pink- 
robed Weezy. 


THE STREET MASQUERADE I45 

Little Miss Weezy had known Mrs. David- 
son and Captain Bradstreet at first sight, be- 
cause Pauline had described the garments in 
which they would appear. 

“Your papa is a very sensible man, little 
queen of the fairies,” returned the make- 
believe Lady Washington ; and she stooped 
to bend in shape the wire taste in Weezy’s 
drooping left wing. 

“ Now I’m going to see if I can tell Kirke 
and Mollie in their play clothes,” said her 
dainty majesty, with a touch of her wand on 
General Washington’s shoulder, 

The general smiled upon her as she flitted 
away like a roseate cloud. 

Through her pink silk mask, she observed 
many wonders in the street outside, and pres- 
ently, she danced back to her mother, crying, — 

“ Look, look, mamma ! There are Pauline 
and Mollie ! White dresses on ; sunbonnets 
too.” 


146 


THE MERRY FIVE 


The masked faces beneath the white sun- 
bonnets turned in the direction of Weezy’s 
voice, but the white figures moved forward 
without halting. 

“They’re just a-fimnmg, mamma. It was 
Pauline and Molly, now truly.” 

“ It seems to me that the taller one is 
too tall for my Pauline, and the shorter one 
is too short for your Molly, senora,” said 
General George Washington Bradstreet, fol- 
lowing with his eye the simply arrayed couple. 

Turning neither to the right nor to the 
left, they walked on, arm-in-arm, under the 
brilliant arc light, while the fairy queen’s 
mamma smiled behind her black mask. Of 
all in the sun parlor, she and Lady Washing- 
ton alone knew how Pauline and Molly were 
to be dressed. 

Weezy grew impatient. 

“ Say, mamma, please. Wasn’t it Pauline 
and Molly } ” 


THE STREET MASQUERADE I47 

“ I mustn’t tell you, little queeny.” 

‘^Oh, dear! I hate that ugly thing over 
your face, mamma. You don’t look like my 
pretty mamma. You look like some other 
little girl’s mamma.” 

“ Do I ? ” Mrs. Rowe laughed. “ And you 
look to me, fairy queen, like some other 
mamma’s little girl.” 

‘‘I hope Kirke won’t guess I’m his onty 
donty sister, mamma. Where is Kirke, I’d 
like to know.” 

The longer Weezy watched the comers and 
goers, the more bewildered she grew. Here 
stalked a tall man in a white sheet, his face 
muffled in a pillow-case; and next him Weezy 
spied a yellow pumpkin marching on two 
feet. At least it appeared to be a pumpkin, 
only Weezy had never before beheld any pump- 
kin that had a boy’s head in place of a stem. 

mamma, see! There’s a little girl looks 
just like a tulip! And there’s a little boy — 


148 THE MERRY FIVE 

O mamma, mamma, do see him ! He’s all 
black and part yellow like a big sting-y bum- 
blebee ! ” 

Weezy hopped up and down too excited to 
keep still. 

“ I expect any minute to see her fly into 
the air on those gauze wings of hers,” re- 
marked General Washington. And of course 
he meant what he said, for George Washing- 
ton never told a lie. 

“ Don’t be uneasy about her. General,” re- 
sponded the pretended Spanish lady playfully. 

She won’t flutter far from the earth while 
these strange sights are to be witnessed.” 

To and fro past the sun parlor trooped 
monks with cowls, and nuns with rosaries ; 
men dressed in gunny-sacks, and women 
dressed in newspapers. All wore masks. 
Weezy saw pretty masks and hideous masks; 
masks of pigs’ faces, of pug-dogs’ faces, of 
negro, Chinese, and tattoed Indian faces. In 


THE STREET MASQUERADE 1 49 

every direction the square was a moving mass 
of varied color. To look through the window 
was like looking through a slowly whirling 
kaleidoscope. 

“ Now those white girls are coming back, 
mamma,” called Weezy. *‘And here’s an old, 
old woman with a queer hat on, and she’s 
got a dog.” 

“That woman must be Old Mother Hub- 
bard, Weezy.” 

“ And, O mamma ! can you. see ? There’s 
somebody with a striped dress on. It’s red 
and white ; blue too. It looks like Fourth 
of July.” 

Her mamma preserved a discreet silence. 

“And, oh, please, mamma, see that other 
somebody with her! Her clothes are all red 
and orange and green.” 

The “somebodies” were Pauline and Molly, 
and they were laughing under their breath to 
hear Weezy talk about them in this high key. 


50 


THE MERRY FIVE 


They’ll never guess me in this black 
wig, Pauline,” whispered Molly, taking long 
steps to disguise her gait. 

“ Nor me in this blond one, unless Paul 
does,” returned Pauline. ' Isn’t it strange 
that we haven’t found him and Kirke yet 1 

“Very. I’ve taken particular notice of all 
the clowns and Indians, Miss Stars-and-Stripes. 
They don’t any of them seem like our boys.’' 

“ I’m wondering. Miss Gold-State, if Paul 
didn’t give me a glimpse of that comic mask 
on purpose to fool me.” 

Here Old Mother Hubbard turned aside to 
join Mother Goose, and this brought United- 
States Pauline and California Molly next the 
two “white girls.” 

“ It would be just like him. Miss Stars- 
and-Stripes.” 

“ I don’t see any fun in dressing up in 
sunbonnets,” remarked Pauline of her neigh- 
bors in front. “It’s no disguise at all." 


THE STREET MASQUERADE 151 

“No,” returned Molly. “We can wear sun- 
bonnets any day.” 

The white maskers quickened their pace. 

“Hush, Molly! Fm afraid those girls have 
overheard every word we’ve said,” said Pau- 
line, pulling down her blue liberty cap. “See 
them shake. They’re laughing at us.” 

“If they’re laughing we haven’t hurt their 
feelings, Pauline, so I don’t care.” 

Had not Molly’s ears been partially cov- 
ered by her wig she might have heard a 
faint titter from under the nearest sunbonnet. 

“ I think those must be country girls, 
Molly ; don’t you } They kick out the hems 
of their gowns every step they take.” 

“You ought to give them lessons in Del- 
sarte, Pauline.” 

Molly and Pauline had again come around 
to the enclosed balcony, where Weezy stood 
at an open window gazing out. 

“ The little fairy queen hasn’t the least 


152 THE MERRY FIVE 

idea who we are,” whispered Pauline tri- 
umphantly ; nobody has but your mother. 
Take longer steps, Miss California, or your 
papa will know you by the way you walk.” 

And your papa’ll know you. Miss Liberty 
Cap, by the way you swing your arms.” 

“ No, he sha’n’t. I’ll hold them as stiff as 
Indian clubs.” 

“That’s a dear; and I’ll march like a col- 
onel. You needn’t be afraid of my giving 
us away, Polly.” 

“Unless you spoil everything by giggling. 
Miss California. You’re such a girl to giggle ! ” 

Pauline was giggling herself, but so softly 
that no one in the sun parlor was the wiser ; 
no, not even Lady Washington, who sat only 
a few feet from the pavement. 

“What makes them press back upon us so .?” 
said Molly, suddenly stopped by the crowd in 
front. “ Stretch your neck. Miss Stars-and- 
Stripes.” 



"That inquisitive little dog.” 


153 











THE STREET MASQUERADE 1 53 

Pauline had the advantage of Molly in being 
the taller. 

“ Oh, oh, Mother Goose has lost her goose ! 
No — yes — no — she’s caught it ! What a 
scramble! Why, Molly, Mother Goose must 
be a boy I Who knows but it’s Paul } ” 

“ Or Kirke, Pauline ! ” 

People began to move on again. When 
the crush was over, the girls found themselves 
once more beside the white sunbonnets. The 
wearers of the bonnets bowed in a friendly 
fashion, and one of them — it was the shorter 
— handed Pauline a bunch of carnations. 

Pauline murmured her thanks, and whis- 
pered to Molly that she thought she had met 
that girl before — perhaps at La Jolla. 

How much longer the pleasant farce might 
have gone on but for Zip cannot be told, for 
at this point that inquisitive little dog appeared 
upon the scene to find out what Molly and 
Kirke were doing. Barking and whining, he 


154 


THE MERRY FIVE 


frisked about Molly, ‘‘saluting the flag” as 
Pauline said ; and after that performance of 
what use was it for Molly to pretend that 
she was not Molly ? 

And as if he had not already done mischief 
enough, Zip next charged at the girl who 
had given Pauline the pinks, and the girl’s 
mask dropped down, and everybody saw that 
the supposed maiden was Kirke Rowe. 

Weezy almost laughed her wings off at the 
sight, while General Washington and the 
“Spanish man” openly applauded. 

“To think,” said the amused general, “that 
those children should have kept their secret 
the whole evening, and that after all it should 
have been the dog that let the cat out of the 
bag!” 

But the cat was out, and thus ended the 
farce for our masqueraders. 

The evening had been a delight, and we will 
leave the happy children laughing and com- 


THE STREET MASQUERADE I 5$ 

plimenting one another on the extraordinary 
shrewdness they had displayed in disguising 
themselves. We may meet them again in a 
year and a day ; who knows where ? Possibly 
in the City of the Silver Gate, possibly in 
Europe. But wherever it may be, The Merry 
Five will not appear again with masks on 
their faces. 








r V .-n 




. ■ 


, *• 





4 * ^ 


odiEv*^ I ^ ♦ ’ *» - ^ j‘ * ' * ■ * *' J 4- 

E^ •! 1 » .i-i*- • ^ ^. : . . •'=• *»L ‘ • 


■■ ■ 

V* I Vi K . • 





'^} I» H 


- • ✓ 

i I ;< A IT 

. ; .rve\'^' " 


' . '’’s, ** ^ “**.■' 

T. • , \' •“. <u •• f ■ 

-s i !-, V? •.•^* ^ i. ^ 


. ■ V “'Vlr • f ,. • .pi 

V . ^ . 



^ I 


t * ♦ ♦ 




.t 



'V^ * 


ryj.s, ‘^i*- 


:4?" i 

■’ ■ ' * 


1 / <■ wl; ' • ■'• 

■*'“ 'i .13i5.‘'^^r' ‘ » ■ V'^ r'lf ': 


■ -'j^ ‘ f ^ r ^ ^ \ 




. -U 



^:MW.', 








ii» :':W- iiT . 4 




at6ui 


eENN 'SHlRUEY.’S BOOKS 


PENN SHIRLEY:S 
STORIES 

FOR THE LITTLE ONES 

Miss "PenV^^birrey is-.t yerygraceful interpVet^er of child-life.’ 
She thorougHy'.uaderstands hoW' to reach out h^the teoder chord 
6f the little one’s* feelings, and to interest her in the noble life of 
her. young cOftipanion^’' Her- stories- are full of bright lessons- 
’but they dO-'jnq‘t^-.tol;e’oft fli5 ‘character of moralizing sermons! 
Ker keQ» 6tj$erv‘A.t.ioni;aridVeadj^ sypipathy teach her how t^i)l$al 
with the littTeipngyirf’hel ping them to understand; the lessons of 
life. Her stories are .Viiuple and unaffected. — Boston Heraldic 


THE LITTLE MISS V/EEZY SERIES 

Thrye volumea illustrated Boxed, eaeh 75 cepty'i > 

tlTTLE MISS WEE^y 

One of the freshest and rao§t delightful, becmise the mqsV 
oatnriil of the stories of the yeap fbr children/ is Little* hl*3s 
Vyee^,” by Pegu Shirley. ^ It relates the oddities! the mischief, 
the" adventure?^ ahdTth^ misacTYenfures of a tiny two^yeai:^ld 
maiden, full of life and/spirit, apd capable of tlie most-uiiexj 
pectedi freaky and'-pranfes,. *The book is full of' humor, and is 
written- w,itK> a-’ delfcate sympathy with- the feelings of children^ 
wHic^ wilt'!fnake it ple:iaing to children - and parents hlike'i 
59®d child literature is not over-plepty, despite the multi- 
hod]^ fliat daily from the preset ’and it is pleasing 
Vr irelcomg. a he\if authoi? whoso firet volume, like 'this one of 
0epn Shiiley, adds promise of future good work to actual present 
merit. -s-r Bq^x& Confer. 


PENN SHIRLEY’S B00K9 


LITTLE .M.ISSWEEZY’a^aJ?DtHEB^ 

This is' a good story for young clifidl’cn, t)rThgir^. in .the Sam® 
cliaractcrs as ii'XittJe Miss Weezy” of. last yeariiiind continuing 
the history of a very natural and.wlde-awake fAfuily of children. 
Tire doings, and the various ‘'‘^scrancS” ufKirkeirlhc brotheif 
foiin a prominent feature of the- iJCTOkj and aye^ueh as wc mav 
see any day in .the sChool or-hoWeilife of^ajwefl'Cared-foi;' ar 0 
^ood-intentioned little .boy. Therg.,are i tjuite pleading 

Full-page illustratiotts'v.'*- TliC Djali- 

W’c should like to ,sce the person wlTo.fliinks-^t'' easy enough 
to write for children.’? attempt, a. book like the- '‘Miss Weezy** 
stories. Excepting Sophie Ma3's childish cl:issics» wo don’t know 
of anything published as bright as the sayings and doings of tlie 
little. Touiso* aftd her friends. • Their pranks and. capei-s are no 
more like Dotty Dimple’s than Ihose of one bi-ight child are like 
another’s, but they are just sv-^“ cute ’’.as those of- the little folks 
that play in your yard Or around your neighbor’s ''doorsteps. — 
Journal of Edncalion. 


little miss WEEZY’S sister 

" It is one of' the best of (he sprie.s,.and will please every child 
who reads it. It is brought out ,pist at tha holiday tirae,.iand is 
brimful of good tilings. ICvcry cliaracter in it is time to nature 
and. the doings of a bright lot of children,. in which Miss Mary 
Rowe figures conspicuously, will entertaiu grown folks as well 
as little ones.” 

It is a thoroughly clever and delightful fitory? of child life, 
gi'acefully told, aiid cliai*ming in its blending'df humor and 
pathos. The children in the book are vekTl children, • and tire 
pretty plot’ through which tiicy move is fqllj in harmony with 
the characters. The 3'oiing ones will, find it a-,8torehouse of pleas^ 
ont tilings pleasantly related, and a book that will appeal Ut oncQ 
to their sentiments and sympathies. Boston Oazctic* 

A book that will hold the place of lionor on the nurS^ book-- 
shelf, until it falls to pieces from much handling, is **filttle Miss' 
VVeezy's'Sistci',” a sim))le, yet absorbing stoiT of children who 
are interesting because they are so real. It is doing scant justice 
to say for the author, Penh Shirley, that the annals of child-life 
have seldom been traced with more loving care. — Boston Times- 




















